


To Return Again

by gotabingley



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Fluff, I want my disney-conditioned-mind HEA, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug, Romance, back from the dead, but plot bunnies, kind of, sorry guys didn't hate tros, totally a novice at this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotabingley/pseuds/gotabingley
Summary: The battle is over and Rey is exhausted of it all, but most of all she is in private mourning, a mourning she cannot share with any of her friends.But hope is not lost, and this author is going to give Reylo a happy ending, even if she knows jack-squat about Star Wars.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 83
Kudos: 233





	1. Prologue: A Lesson on Love

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this isn't my first rodeo with fanfiction, but it is for Star Wars fanfiction. I am a fan, but I'm not a deep-diver into the lore/canon/what-have-you, and I honestly don't know how interested I am in really sinking my teeth into it. Suffice it to say, Star Wars is part of my life and I have opinions (and some of them are pretty strong), but I'm not fanatical. I had some issues with TROS, but for the most part I liked it. I wasn't absolutely crushed by Ben dying; it wasn't a huge surprise to me. BUT that doesn't mean there's no shipper heart in me, and so I have to "fix it" and give them a good ending together. I'm still working out some various plot ideas, and this might end up being totally disjointed and weird, or maybe even just glimpses of life as years pass. Who knows? So, chapter one is basically the equivalent of a deleted scene before Rey goes to Tattooine, and the next chapter will pick up post-credits.

It was over. The war was won.

At least, she supposed she _should_ feel the war was won. A logical argument that percolated in her mind whispered that there were battles still to be fought and enemies to be routed, though not to such a degree as this final battle had been. However, this practical thought was not responsible for her despondency.

She had been more than happy to celebrate when she returned to Ajan Kloss, finding her friends and embracing them for all they were worth. There had been truth in this rejoicing, after all. The great enemy had been thrown down, and there were many who still lived to carry on and rebuild in a way that might actually last this time. Her happiness and relief had not been feigned. And yet . . .

Now that the height of victory had been observed, she found herself seeking solitude for the depths she was now given time to feel. She had seen bitter tears shed by others, of course, in the midst of the fervor, and their losses were no small thing. But, she mused ruefully, they were at least allowed to show their grief to others, to those who had fought alongside them, to those who would understand and approve such feelings. No one was left alive who would understand or approve her need to mourn.

So as night fell and celebrations began to take on a more subdued feeling, she muttered a few words to her friends, reassuring them of her mental and physical state, but expressing a desire to walk the jungle paths alone for a time. They were understanding, thankfully, and she was grateful for their consideration. They knew little about her battle on the ground, but they were at least aware that her fight had been far different from theirs. She felt Finn’s gaze on her the longest, and she wondered briefly if he guessed that there was more to her untold tale than anyone else thought. But she had time to ponder that on a different day. Tonight she would be selfish and embrace the delayed pain that was beginning to fray and split her insides.

The evening cast a dark blue shadow on the earth surrounding her as she walked, past lovers who also sought the privacy of the leaves, past families who required their own manner of devotion and comfort, past any others who looked for peace in the silent and blessedly empty sky. The blanket of the canopy blocked her view of the stars, but instead of feeling sheltered, she only felt suffocation. Loss, guilt, uneasiness, even resentment -- all this engulfed her as her mind turned to the last moments she had spent on the surface of that evil planet.

 _I’m so sorry_ , she cried out in her mind once she had found a solitary break in the trees. _I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you in return. I’m sorry that I couldn’t cry for you in that moment. I’m sorry that you were robbed of a life without darkness. I’m sorry that all I could do was watch you disappear. I wish . . ._

But almost as though she had spoken her apology aloud, she could not continue this vein of thought without a ferocious sob bursting from her, forcing her to the ground and shaking with tears. Her mind felt broken, and her chest heaved, desperately seeking for the air that had been cut off from her since _he_ had fallen to the ground. Was it really so possible to feel your own life was cut away from you by watching another die? If their places had been exchanged, and he had lived, would his soul feel ripped and torn into shreds as she was recognizing in herself now? Could she ever feel truly whole again?

She had first collapsed onto the jungle grass, giving no heed to the silky feel of it as she hugged her body tightly, as though afraid she might lose more of herself in her cries and she must hold on to _something_. But after the initial agonizing pain had blasted its way from her, she managed her way onto her knees, resting her forearms against a fallen log and burying her face into her elbow. A semblance of reason had returned into a corner of her brain, and she knew she must muffle her tears so as not to be discovered and forced into explaining herself to passersby.

She didn’t know how long the tears flowed, only that she had never known she had such a capacity for them. _What a waste_ , she bitterly thought, but the bitterness did not take them away as she hoped. She could only wait until they were completely spent, every feeling washing over her like waves on the sand, over and over, an inconsistent rhythm that came in this time stronger, that time weaker, then weaker again, then stronger when she foolishly believed it may be truly ebbing away.

But it was as her sobs finally died down to intermittent whimpers that she felt a presence beside her. A silent one, but patient and caring. Without sparing a glance, she knew who it was. And aside from the presence of the one she truly wished to see, and perhaps Leia, he was probably the most welcome company she could hope for. He did not speak or rush her away from her expressions of mourning; he would not judge her for such lamentations over her erstwhile enemy. A hand, gentle and sure, rested on her shoulder, giving what quiet comfort he could until she was ready to face him.

It was a long time coming, but she eventually found the meager strength to pull back, still kneeling, but allowing herself to take in the electric blue shimmer surrounding the man who sat on the log beside her hands. She could not look directly at him, though. Any expression, somber or joyful, might break her. So she stared at her hands, rough and bloody as they looked. Not so long ago they had held _his_ hand, and that alone made them precious -- a last lifeline to him and everything he gave to save her.

Finally, the gray-clad man beside her spoke, tender sympathy lacing the single syllable he uttered. “Rey.”

She tore her gaze away from her hands now and looked up at him. A small gasp escaped her as she took in his own tearful eyes, even as a glimmer of a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

“Rey,” he said again. “I am so proud of you. And I am so sorry.”

She thought her body had exhausted its watery resources, but his heartfelt expression of condolence made the tears prickle painfully behind her eyes again. She shook her head quickly, blinking them away. “What should you be sorry for?” she replied, more harshly than intended as she stood up and turned away from him. “I defeated the Emperor, and we won. There is nothing to be sorry for in that.”

She heard him sigh before he stood, as well, moving to stand alongside her. Amazing that a ghost could make the grass rustle under his feet. “I am sorry for all the pain you endured by having to face him, and what you have lost by defeating him.”

“Don’t!” she spat, the bubbling anger and resentment overcoming the sorrow for the moment. “Don’t speak about it unless you will actually say what happened -- what happened to him. I don’t need empty words and vague allusions!”

“Fine. I’ll be specific,” was the soft yet stern reply, and ghostly hands took hold of her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I’m sorry that you lost Ben.”

And there it was, the name she hadn’t even spoken to herself since she had said it to _him_ in that horrible chamber. Her face crumpled as Luke pulled her against him, wrapping his arms securely around her. Her strength to spend in tears was depleted, and all she could do was try to steady her breathing and remind herself that Luke did not deserve her venom, not when he was there to help. She could barely feel him, and she couldn’t help wondering how he managed to catch hold of her at all, but there was a warmth and energy seeping into her from where his arms touched her. So there was that.

“Did you know?” she whispered. He pulled away then, his hands still on her shoulders, a question in his eyes. “Did you know about . . . the bond we shared? The dyad?”

He nodded in understanding at her clarification, now moving back to sit on the log while she still stood. “Looking back, maybe I should have known. If I hadn’t closed myself off for so long, the thought might have occurred to me when I saw how close your connection was on Ahch-To. To be able to reach across the galaxy like that, to touch and share . . .” he trailed off and shook his head, then looked back at her. “You have to understand, Rey, a dyad in the Force is extremely rare -”

“There hasn’t been one in generations,” she interrupted, a shiver running through her at the memory of who had imparted that piece of knowledge.

Luke nodded cautiously. “It wasn’t something elaborated on by Jedi scholars, I think because nobody really knew what it entailed besides those connected by such a bond.”

“And you don’t know any more about it, even where you are now,” Rey responded flatly.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry.” He looked as though he would say something else, but Rey was too full of feeling to be still and quiet.

“It’s just not . . .” she began, crossing quickly over to the log and sitting beside him. “It’s just not fair!” she exclaimed. At the sympathetic lifting of his brow, she pressed on, not caring how young she sounded at such a declaration. “He hardly had a chance to live, to _really_ live. I saw him, Master. I _saw_ him. Ben. The true Ben. Who he could have been, had he not been twisted and manipulated by the darkness before he even knew he had to fight it. I saw who he chose to be at the end. And he was peace and bravery . . . and strength . . . and _Light_ ,” she concluded breathlessly, remembering that all-too-brief smile.

“I know,” Luke replied quietly. “You were right about him, Rey, when nobody else was.”

“But what good does being right do me?” she argued, the tears beginning to form again. “Yes, I saw _him_ , but he was taken away so quickly! It was the smallest of moments I had with him, when I could see everything he was, everything he could be. He was the man he was meant to be, the man I thought I could -” she stopped abruptly, remembering who she was speaking with. She couldn’t say this to Luke.

But naturally Luke would not be satisfied with her biting her tongue. “What is it?” he probed, his eyes taking on a piercing stare. “Don’t be afraid, Rey. Say it.”

Such a direct invitation reminded her too much of his nephew and the many times he had forced her to confront a truth she would not admit. A tear escaped down her cheek. “I can’t. It’s not the Jedi way,” she murmured.

A beat of silence, and then Luke shocked her. “To hell with the Jedi way. Tell me what you were going to say.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly at his forceful admonition. He must have been pleased at her reaction, because he couldn’t stop a corner of his mouth from lifting in an entertained smirk. “And just for that, I’ll never be allowed to visit anybody ever again,” he mused. Even Rey couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped her; it had been so unexpected.

Luke quickly sobered, though, and placed a hand over hers on her lap. “Rey, it’s all right. You can tell me the truth of your feelings. You might have guessed I already know what they are.”

His even gaze was reassuring in its steadiness, and besides, he was right. She was certain he already knew. But she still had to take a moment to gather her courage, for she had yet to admit this to herself, let alone to another person, be they living or dead. She swallowed thickly; even her throat was dry.

“I . . .” she started, closing her eyes for a moment, and taking a deep breath, she spoke quickly. “I could have loved him. I think I might have already.”

Luke held her gaze a little longer, giving a series of supportive nods with his head as he patted her hand twice. “And you have read enough of the Jedi texts to know that the Jedi taught against attachments.”

She nodded.

“After everything you have gone through, Rey, do you still wish to follow the path of a Jedi?” His brow furrowed at her.

She had not expected this question at all. “Do you think that I should not?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She didn’t need very long to form an answer. “I spent so much of my life alone. I told you once that I wanted to know my place in this world, and for me that meant finding a sense of belonging, of no longer feeling so alone. And in the chamber, when I called out for someone to be with me, you were all there. I was no longer alone. I belonged. There was - is - no turning back for me after that. To follow the Jedi path is my destiny, Master; I feel sure of that.”

Luke looked at her for a long time before replying. “If you are sure, then you have set your course. I just wanted to be clear that you always have a choice, and if you felt you must take another way, there was no shame or dishonor in that. You have already given so much.”

She nodded. “This is my choice. My path. There is so little I know, but I know that much.”

A quirk of Luke’s lips told her he was pleased with her answer, but his eyes stayed clear, steady, and serious. “I also ask because if you intend to continue as a Jedi, there is one last lesson I want to teach you.”

“Only one?” she quipped before she could stop herself.

He breathed a quiet snicker at her impudence, but did not rise. “Well, perhaps not the last lesson, but an important one.

“My father loved my mother, Rey. And yet he was a Jedi.”

Rey inhaled deeply; Luke gave no preamble before cutting to the meat of the matter.

“He had known the Jedi way for many years, and he knew that by loving her he was going against generations of teachings. Those teachings included compassion, but distance; kindness, but disinterestedness. Attachments could be dangerous because they interfered with putting the general good above your own desires. They could be considered selfish, and the Jedi should never be selfish. Attachments could lead to possessiveness, fear, and anger. Suffering.

“He was taught all this, and he defied the Jedi code by marrying her, secretly. They lived this way for three years, having to hide their relationship from the world. And sometimes I wonder . . .” he sighed, rubbing his brow with his hand before continuing. “I wonder if the denial the Jedi taught helped lead to his fall.”

Rey shook her head slightly, confused and unsure of his point. She knew very little of the Skywalker history; her time with Leia had been so focused on her own training that she didn’t know the full story of Anakin Skywalker’s turn.

“You see, Rey, he was so afraid of losing her,” Luke explained, “that he was compelled to turn to the one person who gave the slightest promise of cheating death.”

A shudder bristled over her. “Palpatine.”

A curt nod, and then he continued. “He had visions of my mother dying and was determined to save her by any means necessary. Yes, there were other circumstances that led to his fall, but the possibility that she could die, that he could lose her -- it was too much for him to bear. But maybe, just maybe, there could have been a chance for him if he had been allowed to love her openly, to be both Jedi and husband without secrecy and fear. Perhaps the Jedi’s teachings about denying love created precisely the kind of love that they truly wanted to avoid, the kind that can only exist in shadows and is so possessive that it turns rancid and ugly.

“Do you understand why I’m telling you this, Rey?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out. She felt as though she were just on the edge of knowing his purpose, but needed a final push over the edge of understanding.

“You heard me rail about the Jedi way on the island, how the pride and blindness of the Jedi directly led to Palpatine rising to power and the creation of the Empire. How it led to my father becoming Darth Vader. Now, I know that some of my actions were wrong, and I am glad that the Jedi Order is not destined to end with me, but I still believe that -- maybe,” he punctuated this word with a sardonic grin, “I wasn’t wrong about everything.

“If the Jedi is to continue with you, Rey, I don’t want you believing that you must follow everything from the old ways, not if they are wrong. Because love -- true, real, sincere love is never wrong.”

Luke spoke with such earnestness that Rey could not reply, so captured she was by his words. Perhaps he thought she would speak now, as he paused for a moment, but there was too much to consider from his counsel for her to give speech to the feelings and introspection he was inspiring in her.

“Yes, Rey, attachments can be dangerous when formed in a mindset of fear or control. They can lead to heartache at the least, and destruction at the worst. But there is a power and goodness that comes from the best kind of love. I lived without romantic love in my life, but I loved my sister. I loved Han. This did not corrupt my way. My father’s love for my mother, I would like to think, was not wrong in the beginning, and yes, it contributed to his downfall. But do you know what made him turn back to the light? His love for me. He saved me and himself because of love.”

Rey’s eyes began brimming with tears before he even spoke his next words; she knew what he would say next.

“And Ben,” Luke said softly, so softly. “He did not save you for his own selfish reasons. He saved you knowing he could die. In fact, he did it knowing he _would_. And yet he did it, and why?”

Her voice was so quiet that nobody could have heard her _but_ a Force ghost. “Because he loved me.”

There was silence as he allowed her time to take in his meaning, but he soon spoke again. “If you will be a Jedi, Rey, be a Jedi that allows for love. Don’t be afraid of it. Because that very love has saved you.”

The finality in his voice told her that the lesson was over, and she smiled weakly in thanks. It was not the attempt at comfort she had first expected, but the kindness in his advice helped smooth over some ragged edges of her heart. If only it were possible for that modicum of peace to last longer than a minute. Just as Luke’s words had circled back to Ben, too soon did her pain return and she cast her eyes downward.

“Yes, that love saved me,” she admitted dismally. “I was dead.”

“Yes,” he agreed swiftly.

“And now Ben is.”

At first, Rey thought Luke’s silence at her bald statement was only an attempt to not cut deeper into her wound. But the slightest tingle in her hands and a flutter at her heart gave his stillness a greater meaning, and her reaction was immediate. Her head flew up to study Luke’s face, and she could not stop her heart from thumping wildly when she saw the expression in his eyes, a subdued thrill mixed with a pitying glance that clearly told her, _When will you ever learn_?

“He is . . . dead?” she repeated, but with hope in her voice that she never thought could rise in her again. “Luke, he can’t be . . .”

The corner of his mouth rose again, and his eyes were intense, and he replied, “He can.”

She nearly flew off the log, excitement and shock and, yes, indignation, spurring her on. “And you’re only telling me this now? You couldn’t tell me that to begin with?”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Let me explain something here. You were grieving, and rightly so. He is gone, and you are parted from him.”

She deflated instantly.

“For now.”

Could she take much more of this turbulence?

“And I _was_ going to tell you at the beginning when we were talking about dyads. It was a perfect segue, in fact, because I still know nothing about them, and there’s practically nothing I understand about what I’m going to tell you. But then you began talking about how things weren’t fair, and then I was concerned that you would be a stickler for the Jedi Code, and it’s so important, Rey, for you to allow for the possibility of love.”

A pressure was rising in her chest at every moment, and she felt full to bursting. Was this real? Was Luke truly telling her it was possible for Ben to return? It had to be true; was it? Fear and hope warred within her.

Luke was not blind to the emotions she was experiencing, and he smiled. A true smile now, one full of affection and pride. “As I said, I know very little, not nearly as much as you want to know. What I can tell you is that you will see Ben again. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week. You might have to wait a long time; I don’t know. But you will see him again. I can give you my word on that.”

Once more Rey dropped to her knees at his feet, craving more, but Luke forestalled any further inquiries by holding up his hands again. “That’s all I can say, Rey. Truly. Maybe a dyad is much harder to break than anybody ever thought.”

She was crying again. Why, when given such joyous and hopeful news, was she crying again? Would she every run dry? Was it the humid climate that gave her so much moisture? She was sure she never could have produced so many tears back on Jakku.

She took his hands in hers, feeling the warmth and surge of energy flow through her again. “Luke,” she choked out. Was there enough gratitude in the galaxy that his words deserved?

He extricated a hand from her grip, and laid it alongside her cheek in an almost paternal way. “I know.” Her watery smile would have to be enough.

“In the meantime, you have work to do,” he continued. “If you are to start a new Jedi Order, it’s time for you to start afresh and make something all your own.”

She instinctively knew what he meant, and she pulled the hilt of Anakin’s lightsaber from her belt. Luke nodded.

“It’s time, Rey.”


	2. How We Got Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I know I said that Ben would show up in this chapter, but I guess allllll the other characters revolted at such an idea, mainly Chewie, so this is not so much post-credits as it is the equivalent of more deleted scenes before Rey goes to Tatooine. You know how stories get minds of their own? Yeah, barely two chapters in and this is already getting away from me! Still lots of exposition and background, but I hope it's still kind of enjoyable ... It is important to get the reactions of Rey's friends and set the stage for future encounters with them.

This was only a temporary respite, of course. She did not have any intention of staying, however fascinated she was by her presence on the very world that both Luke and Anakin Skywalker had made their humble beginnings. She was sick to death of deserts, and besides that, it was high time she returned to her friends. She had been isolated from them long enough.

Luke’s encouragement, if not outright challenge, for her to forge her own lightsaber was not something she could immediately pursue. The fall-out from the battle of Exegol was not going to be solved in a day, and Poe had spent hours at first trying to convince her to stay and help lead the fight that remained. She had withstood his entreaties calmly. She was no politician, and was ill-equipped to help form a new government, and as for her fighting skills -- she would not fulfill her calling to bring peace to the galaxy until she had a weapon to call her own. Poe had scowled when she said so, but upon urging from Finn, he kept his protestations to a low grumble in her presence.

Finn expressed only once his desire that she stay, and she felt every day how much she would miss her first true friend, but even that did not shake her resolve. For his part, he easily decided what his role would be moving forward -- locating and reuniting families torn apart by the stormtrooper program. The sibling-like bond he was forging with fellow deserter Jannah inspired him, and they were determined to set things right for as many stolen children as possible. Rey was happy that he had a clear purpose, though she still felt occasionally that there was another path Finn considered as they tested their shaky footing.

Perhaps he might have confided in her, and perhaps Poe would have continued pestering her if it hadn’t been for the tempestuous meeting when she had officially briefed the Resistance leaders on her struggle in the Sith throne room. They had listened to her story with awe as she described the ravaged, deadened state of the former Emperor and the countless, faceless fanatics who were so desperate for his return. If she had spoken only of herself and her fight against him, there would have been no resulting friction among her comrades. But she refused to hide what Ben had done for her. He deserved official recognition, even if only from her own testimony, for his actions that made her victory possible.

If it had not been an official conference, the uproar at her tale would have been enormous. As it was, she saw confusion, disbelief, and outright anger in the faces of her friends, as though they were offended at her refusal to discard Ben from her account. Several clearly were holding themselves back from disputing her openly, shocked that she would fight alongside Kylo Ren. Finn himself finally erupted when she admitted to sharing a lightsaber with Ben (although she omitted how exactly the transfer of said saber had taken place).

“Why would you do such a stupid thing, Rey?” He flew to his feet. “What were you thinking? What if he had turned on you?”

“He wasn’t going to!” she replied hotly. “He came to help me; I could feel it! And he did!”

Chewie gave an incomprehensible yell that made Rey flinch.

“You must admit, Rey, that it is difficult for us to -” Commander D’Acy began, but Finn interrupted her before she could say another word.

“And he just magically changed his mind between Kef Bir and the throne room, huh? Come on, Rey, you were fighting him only hours before we all arrived on Exegol.”

“I know very well what happened on Kef Bir, thank you,” she rejoined bitterly. “Kylo Ren was destroyed. And Ben Solo lived.”

Finn looked as though he wanted to argue further, but Rose, who had been included in the group not for her military knowledge but for her friendship with Rey, spoke up. “We can debate names and identities later,” she said with a pointed look at Finn. “Our purpose now is to hear Rey’s report, and if . . . _he_ . . . was there and was allied with her, she is obligated to tell us so.”

“Thank you,” Rey said fervently as Finn grudgingly nodded and took his seat. Rose, for her part, acknowledged Rey’s thanks with a jerk of her head, but would not meet her eye.

Finishing her story had been excruciating, not only because of her own dismay and the disapproval of her friends, but because she must keep back a piece of the story. If their anger was simmering at the idea of her fighting with Ben, what would their horror be if they knew the extent of her connection with him? She had carefully and painfully given what knowledge was necessary, and that was all. But how she longed to explain why she was so sure of his intentions, how his appearance had saved her soul just as she was prepared to sacrifice it in the turmoil of battle.

The room went deadly silent when she frankly told them she had died and Ben had given his life to revive her. The silence remained as she concluded, and she stood and walked away alone. It was time, she knew, for her to leave and fulfill the tasks that Luke had set for her. After what had just happened, she wasn’t sure they would even miss her.

Communications between them had certainly been strained for the last three months as she crossed from world to world. They had felt it necessary to keep in contact, sending along the occasional message or transmission, so not all hope was lost for her friendships. And she was grateful for the assurance she was given before leaving Ajan Kloss. After the disastrous meeting, she didn’t know who to speak to, to reach out and say goodbye to. Clearly even Rose’s natural kindness had been stretched to the limit, and Rey didn’t want to press her luck. She clamped down that much harder on the additional pain that told her she had betrayed her friends, stuffing it alongside her sorrow of Ben’s passing. Even with Luke’s message of hope, she still felt hollow without Ben’s presence reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

The evening fires had been burning, watched carefully by other Resistance fighters who had yet to hear her story, who might never hear it. She envied them. What was it like to be a nameless fighter, instead of the shining hope of the galaxy? She had wanted belonging, but never notoriety. And now she feared she had snuffed out the remaining sense of family she had built over the last year. She stormily stuffed supplies into a knapsack, cursing angrily over the injustice of being chosen for such a life when she heard a soft whine behind her. She froze. For all his massiveness, Chewie could be stealthy when he so chose.

Bracing herself, she turned to face him, half-expecting blaster fire, both in a literal and metaphorical sense. But the Wookiee only stared quietly.

She couldn’t bear the silence. “Chewie, I’m -”, but he stopped her with a wave of his enormous arm, which he laid on her shoulder.

He growled a single question, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

In a personal way, Chewie had the most reason to consider Ben the greatest enemy, and yet there was longing in his growl, a plea for assurance that the boy he had once loved had really turned back. There was not anger or hatred in Chewie’s eyes, only a sadness that spoke of his struggle to forgive Ben’s actions.

“Yes, it really was Solo,” she replied quietly, grasping his hairy arm with her hand.

Another low howl from Chewie.

“I’m sure. I saw him. He was really Ben.”

Chewie shook his head, and seemed to mutter something under his breath.

“I know. It seems . . . it is unforgivable. I don’t blame you for your feelings.”

She would have said more, but was prevented from doing so when he pulled her into him, cradling her and letting forth a series of moans. He wasn’t angry with her, and he wanted so badly to believe that Ben turned good, but Han had been his best friend, and what was he to think? Han, Luke, Leia; they were all gone. And now his little Pup was, too, just when he remembered who he really was. Rey clung to this gentle beast, trying to impart what comfort she could by returning his furry embrace.

Eventually they parted, and Chewie gestured to the ships as he barked another question, evidently ready to change the subject.

“Yes, I’m going. They’ve known for a few days that I wasn’t going to stay, and now is as good a time as any.”

He motioned again with another bark.

“I’ve got . . . things . . . to do. Things that Luke asked me to take care of.”

Chewie stood up straighter at the mention of Luke’s name. She was shocked by his next request.

“Oh, no, Chewie, I can’t take the Falcon. She’s yours. And besides, even if I would take her, she needs a co-pilot.”

He hummed a low howl, and Rey nearly staggered. Admittedly, her Shyriiwook was not wonderful, but she must have misheard him. _You have a co-pilot_.

She gave a sad smile as she patted his arm. “You have a great heart, my dear friend. But I cannot ask you to come with me; that would be unfair.”

His tone was dry as he reminded her of who came with her to find Luke on Ahch-To, and that when she made the foolhardy decision to confront Kylo Ren on the _Supremacy_ , he had not manhandled her away from the controls. He disagreed with her then, but he had stayed with her.

She sighed, sensing she was fighting a losing battle, but she must try to convince him, anyway. “Chewie.”

A huff and a loud bark from him ended the matter. He was coming with her, they were taking the Falcon, and there was to be no further argument from her, thank you very much.

She couldn’t help laughing to herself as Chewie took himself over to the Falcon, calling over his shoulder that he would get the ship ready, and they would probably be ready to go at first light. It was as though leaving was the stubborn Wookiee’s idea. She loved him for it.

The next morning was when Rose and Finn had appeared at the doors, BB-8 rolling alongside them. They were hesitant and had difficulty looking directly at her, but she appreciated their effort, just the same.

“When do you think you’ll be back?” Finn asked abruptly.

“I . . .” Rey hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t know. Will you still be here for a while?”

Rose nodded. “Since there’s a base of operations already working, there’s no need to move it while there’s still so much unrest. We’d like to think the war is over, but there’s still a lot to do.”

Rose was right. And here Rey was abandoning them on some, as Chewie liked to put it, foolhardy quest. She would have departed, anyway, but she hated the uncomfortable terms she was leaving on. Maybe she _should_ have left Ben’s name out of her report. With a furious shake of her head to herself, she squashed that thought. No, she had done right. The rest was yet to be determined.

“Take care of yourself,” Finn said stiffly. “Keep in touch.”

She bent her head in acknowledgment. “Of course. I hope you will do the same.”

An awkward pause ensued before BB-8 suddenly beeped and whirred, bumping into Finn’s leg. “Oh. Yeah,” he muttered, before waving BB-8 over to Rey. “Poe said you should take him with you.”

Rey was taken aback at the generosity of her absent friend. “Oh, he shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah, well,” Finn groused, evidently opposing the action, as well, “we’ve got plenty of other droids around. 3-PO and R2 will be enough for him, and besides, he said there was a better chance of you coming back if there was someone else who needed to come back, too.”

“I was never planning on leaving forever,” Rey pleaded, willing Finn to actually look her in the face.

“I know, just . . . Poe insisted. It’s his way of saying . . .” He heaved a loud sigh and finally looked up. “He didn’t say anything yesterday, but he’s pretty shaken at what you told us.”

Rey pressed her lips together. Everybody was affected.

“He didn’t feel up to coming himself, but he wanted you to know this is still, you know, where you belong and all that,” Finn finished with a clumsy shrug of his shoulders.

Rose piped in. “We are still family here, Rey. I hope you know that. We do want you to come back.”

“Thank you,” Rey replied, extending her hand to Rose. Normally she would give her cheerful friend a hug, but it didn’t seem at all appropriate now. Fortunately, Rose barely faltered before meeting her halfway, holding hands together without shaking. “Be safe. Be well.” Rose let go, and, with a glance to Finn, seemed to tiptoe away.

Rey held out her hand to him, too, afraid that he would refuse it. He made no move to join his hand to hers, but Rey realized he had something else to say beyond farewell.

“Finn?”

His mouth worked against itself slightly as he stared into her eyes, and yet past them at the same time. A nearly inaudible exhalation escaped him, and he said quietly, “I wanted you to know, I believe you.”

Her lips barely parted before he rushed on. “About Ren. Saving you. I know that he did. I know you were gone, and he brought you back.”

“Finn, I -”

“Don’t,” he cut her short. “Just know that I believe you. And if I believe you about that, I guess I have to believe the other stuff you said about him.” His voice was pained. “Anyway, he can’t hurt any of us anymore; he’s gone forever. We can just move on now.”

Rey bit back her words sadly; she couldn’t tell Finn what Luke had said. It was already a great effort for Finn to make this admission, and she wouldn’t tarnish their final moments together. She simply said, “Thank you, Finn.”

Chewie chose this time to howl at her that final preparations were underway, and she was needed. BB-8 rolled up the hatch, and Finn backed away without another word. That was the last she had seen of her friend’s face outside of a hologram.

In the end, although she had feebly tried to argue against his coming, Rey was glad for Chewie’s company. He was, mostly, patient as she followed hopeful trails, searching for the kyber she needed for a saber of her own. He always was willing to join her if necessary, and though it grated him to occasionally be left at the ship when she needed to go it alone, it was a comfort to know a friend was faithfully awaiting her return. And, as much as Rey loved the Falcon, there was no denying she was a high-maintenance lady, and it took the pair of them to keep her going on more than one occasion.

But what was most valuable to her was Chewie’s ultimate willingness to share stories and memories revolving around Ben. In the quiet moments when her hands and head weren’t busy, her anguish and broken soul would flare up, threatening to overtake her. It was bearable to some degree, because she had the secret knowledge that Ben would return to her, but the gentle humming of security and kinship in their bond was still severed, and she desperately missed it. Chewie seemed to sense how keenly she felt it, though she tried to keep quiet, and the warmhearted Wookiee surmounted his own complicated feelings to assuage the despair of this strong and little girl who cared so deeply for his little Pup.

And perhaps it was cleansing for him to remember Ben as he had been. It was something to cling to when Rey decided he must know of her hopes for Ben’s return. It was not something that should be kept from him, who was the closest link to family Ben still had living. A month previous, he would have roared and raged at the thought. But as she made her confession, now he was quiet and retreated to the privacy of the bunk, requiring time to think and consider. After all, it was much easier to forgive a dead man who would remain so.

At long last, and with some adventures along the way, Rey had found the crystal that called out to her, and it was now time for solitude. Chewie insisted she hold on to to Falcon for a little while, knowing that once she constructed her saber, she would need to make one last pilgrimage alone. She argued once more that the Falcon was not hers to command, but his stubbornness won the day, along with a request that she take him to Kashyyyk. He needed his own reprieve, and a yearning for his first home had taken hold of him. She left him with a determined promise to return once her business on Tatooine was finished.

She had no intention of breaking that promise, thinking that she would leave the desert planet immediately after complying with Luke’s request to bury his and Leia’s sabers. But the slightest hum in her body spoke to her almost as soon as she set foot on the old Lars homestead, bidding her stay longer. She wanted to ignore it, tired as she was of desert and unrelenting heat, not to mention her desire to see her friends without scruples again. But at her first attempt to fly away, the humming within her crescendoed into a vibrating, painful buzz that would not be alleviated until she set back down on the planet surface.

And now it had been nearly two weeks, the foreign purr her constant companion -- for what reason she couldn’t tell. But she knew she mustn’t leave; it was not her time. She would have to wait for the feeling to pass.

Waiting. Something she had spent years perfecting.


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter speaks for itself. :)

Word among the locals had certainly spread quickly. It seemed that the old woman who inquired after her name that first evening was a bit of a gossip. But those who came to satisfy their curiosity of the stranger who claimed a name thought long-dead left Rey’s company with more questions than answers. And it didn’t seem that Rey was going to provide any more information than absolutely necessary.

She had no wish to appear unfriendly, but once she realized that the feeling within her would not allow her to leave, she knew that she would need to put in some work in order to make the abandoned home habitable, however long she would be there. Her days were spent cleaning out a few of the rooms belowground, and then repairing machinery so that she might have the water necessary to live and function. It was a laborious process, and one she felt very little gratification from.  _ There had better be a good reason for marooning me here _ , she found herself thinking in the Force’s direction.  _ This is not my idea of a holiday _ .

The visits of faraway neighbors increased steadily day by day, and some had useful advice to impart as she fixed vaporators and restored power to the home. She did not mind them, and spoke easily, though reservedly, avoiding questions she would rather not answer. She did not even mind the little creatures she learned were called Jawas, who came to trade and sell (as far as she could tell; for all the languages she knew, Jawaese was yet a new one). She was only really perturbed by those who came simply to stare, looking at her as some crazy off-worlder who had no business laying claim to a home and name best left forgotten.

But she would not forget. Indeed, she  _ could _ not. Perhaps it was presumptuous for her to assume the name of Skywalker, but it was more important to preserve the name that she revered rather than allow it to die out in obscurity. She could not allow that victory to the Emperor whose blood she begrudgingly and unwillingly possessed. It would not be fair to the true family she had formed. Besides, she was fairly certain Luke and Leia had approved her decision. Now she had only left to wonder if Ben would approve.

Her self- and Force-imposed solitude certainly kept him fresh in her mind. She wondered if he had ever come here, how well would he work with his hands if he were alongside her, and the constant question of when he would return. She could almost pretend he  _ was _ with her, when no others were about. There were odd moments in those days when she almost convinced herself he was beside her, and then came the crushing recognition that she was only deluding herself by pretending. And the dreams didn’t help one bit.

They had begun when she was still on the Falcon with Chewie. Faint, at first, and quickly over, but still a hint of Ben to remember when she awoke. His smile, his hands, a turn of phrase that he had uttered in life. She clung to these images as her wakeful memories of him only seemed to fade. As time went on, however, the dreams became longer, more frequent, and heartbreakingly real. Since her arrival on Tatooine, she had not had one night without him joining her in slumber.

The common thread between all of the dreams was their reunion, although the circumstances varied each night. He would appear and they would embrace, sometimes speaking, sometimes silent. He would hold her in his crushing arms, sometimes in tears, and sometimes beaming so broadly she forgot the perpetual scowl he bore in life. And always, always, he would kiss her. Gentle, firm, hesitant, sure, passionate, and pure. There was no one way he would kiss her, but each kiss set her body alight with starfire. When she would awake in the morning and he would be gone, she felt even more bereft. If the dreams were supposed to be a source of comfort, they were utterly failing. As she approached her bed each night, she both longed for and dreaded what might come.

The most vivid dream had been one that started most unremarkably, setting her in the kitchen as she prepared an evening meal. Quietly, ever so quietly, he slid into view next to her, pulling her hand away from the table to rest on his chest, turning her body to face him. The look in his eyes was unmistakable; it was hunger, but not the hunger she had known most of her life. Without preface, their bodies collided in a greedy embrace, their mouths meeting over and over again as she led him to the very bed she slept in. There was no hesitation, only desire, and Rey never knew how her hair became unbound and her clothes discarded. The only thing she knew was his body on hers, surrounding and filling her with all she had ever wanted, hands meeting and bodies intertwined, the lone sound her voice gasping his name again and again. She had awoken from that dream immediately, hardly able to breathe and feeling her whole body aflame.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear this sweet and excruciating torture, and she worked her fingers to the bone that day, ignoring BB-8’s multiple attempts to assist her. Upon later reflection, she felt guilty for all that the little droid had to endure for her sake, and she apologized, telling him she wasn’t feeling quite herself. Maybe it would have been better for BB-8 to stay with Poe. An indignant flutter of beeps was her answer to that supposition, and she smiled sadly as she straightened out his antenna for what felt like the thousandth time. She went to her room, afraid of what the next dream what show her, and lay on her back, the unbidden tears making tracks down her face once more.

Despite her warring mind, her exhausted body still took command and drifted into sleep, and she awoke early the next morning without any memory of a haunting dream. She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or upset, but she didn’t linger on that thought, because the humming in her body was vibrating at a different pitch. A knot began to form in her stomach, one that was either anxious or excited; anticipatory, at the very least. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she knew that something was about to happen. She crept from her room, avoiding carefully BB-8’s form where he had closed down the previous night. Whatever was coming, she didn’t want extra company.

The sand was cold beneath her bare feet as she stepped out the door. She shivered at the chilly breeze that tickled her arms, and she rubbed her hands quickly on them to dispel the goosebumps that appeared. Much of the darkness of night was ebbing away, the sky beginning to lighten, though the first sun had yet to break over the horizon. Rey swallowed with difficulty to soothe her parched throat. She should have had something to drink before coming outside. But it was too late now.  _ Something _ was coming. Nothing would move her; she would not miss it. Was it . . .? Could it be . . .? She was afraid of finishing the questions in her mind in case she was wrong. The vibrations she felt flowing through her were becoming louder, and her chest was constricted by a pressure that threatened to overtake her. She would be stronger, though, she determined as she faced the light. She would not faint.  _ Something _ was coming.

All was still around her. Silent. Breathless. She swallowed again.

And then everything erupted around and within her as the morning sun burst over the line of the sand. It was not so much a sound as an explosive reverberation of her universe expanding and collapsing at once that threw Rey to the ground, gulping deep breaths to steady herself against the onslaught. She felt something akin to pain, but not true hurt, as a rushing sound filled her ears and something that had been empty within her suddenly was full and flowing again, like a ruptured dam gushing water into a parched valley. Warmth flooded her entire being, and she understood once more in that moment what it was to feel whole. Until that instant, she had not really comprehended how incomplete she had been. But now all was changed, and as understanding dawned, she struggled to her feet. She would not be prostrate on the ground for this.

The sun was bright against her eyes, too bright, and she squinted painfully as she tried to see what awaited her. She held up a hand to shield some of the glare, which helped a little, but she was too afraid of blocking out what she was supposed to find. She peered from side to side, but whatever she was looking for, it was coming straight from where the sun was shining. And slowly, something did begin to take shape in the middle of the light, a small figure moving toward her. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes began to prickle. Everything in her was saying it was  _ him _ , but the smallest doubt still hissed that it was a fool’s hope. She tried to shove it away, but fear took its place alongside her hope as long as the figure could not really be seen.

And then, echoing through her entire soul, she heard it.

_ Rey _ .

It had been so long since she had heard his voice that it was almost unrecognizable, but still she knew it was his.

_ Ben? _

_ Why are you afraid, Rey? I’m here. Can’t you see me? _

Despite the magnitude of the moment, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes just a little at the question.  _ Well, no, _ she replied to the echo.  _ It’s hard to see when you have to look directly at the sun. _

There was a pregnant pause.  _ Oh. _

Instantly she could tell that the figure stepped off to the side, no longer surrounded by unbearable light, and she blinked. He was still far away, and she would gladly run to him if it weren’t for the lingering glint of the sun that she now had to blink out of her eyes. She rubbed them impatiently with her fingers, squeezing them shut, willing them to recover. As she did so, all of her dreams and fantasies about this moment came into her mind. None of them had been marred by something so mundane as having to keep the inconvenient light out of her eyes. So much for a perfect reunion. But as her sight focused and returned, she wouldn’t trade away what was happening, as his figure became clearer and more distinct, as he came close enough to dispel any doubt that it was Ben walking toward her.

_ Her _ Ben. Strong and healed, free of pain, just as she had hoped and fought for. He stopped still at a distance of twenty feet or so from her, and for a moment, she was able to take him in. His raven hair, still long, tousled in the breeze, his accursedly perceptive eyes dark and inviting, and a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, just like the expression he wore before she had kissed him on that dark day a lifetime ago. He was the same Ben, and yet different, in no small part due to the simple clothes he now wore. No cloak, no over-stuffed tunic, just a simple black shirt ( _ of course still black _ , she thought), brown pants, and sturdy boots that had no business being in the sand. He made no attempt to disguise the fact that he was studying her just as she studied him.

But she wouldn’t waste more than a few scant moments merely looking at him. She took him in, really, only briefly before launching herself at him. He hardly had time to react before she’d closed the distance between them, and his shoes were not conducive to running, so he had only narrowed the gap by a couple steps of his own before she was there, throwing herself into his arms, nearly knocking them both to the ground with the momentum of her leap. He managed to stay upright and turn his stumble into half a spin before setting her feet back on the ground. But there was no thought of letting go. They would gladly cling to each other for the remainder of their lives if it meant they were never separated again.

Rey breathed in deeply as she burrowed her head into Ben’s chest, the excitement and anxiety finally dying down into a tranquil feeling of quiet joy. The hum that had been her constant companion since she arrived was finally gone, and she could blissfully enjoy the feel of Ben’s arms encompassing her, keeping her close. The steadiness of their embrace began to give way as she felt his body trembling against her. She pulled back only enough to see his face once more, and she saw his eyes glistening, matching the tears she knew was also shedding.

His smile was tender, and his touch was gentle when he moved his hands to touch her face, wiping away the wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs. When he had accomplished this task, he simply held cupped her head in his hands, his fingers stroking the nape of her neck, and he  _ looked _ at her. A jolt ran through her at that look, and she was trapped willingly in his gaze.

Finally his mouth moved, and his voice rumbled through her as he spoke her name again. “Rey.” His lips curled upwards more. “Rey.” She felt, rather than heard, the chuckle that escaped him as the joy of being with her again began to take hold.

“Ben,” she whispered, her hands reaching up to hold onto his arms. What were the eloquent words she had said in all those dreams? All vocabulary seemed flown from her aside from his name. “You’re here,” she finally managed, hoping it was adequate.

“I’m here,” he repeated, surely and sincerely, his eyes piercing into hers.

“You . . .” she trailed off, and a sob of relief and trepidation choked her. “You  _ are _ real?” she pleaded. His smile evaporated into an intense look of longing and sympathy, but he did not move. “It’s just . . . I have dreamed of you so often, and it always seems so real, but in the mornings, you’re gone,” she admitted regretfully.

“But it is morning now,” he pointed out. At her little nod, he moved his arms, taking one of her hands in his and lacing his fingers through hers. She looked at their hands linked together, then back up at his reassuring face. “Search your feelings,” he said, the slightest smirk gracing his mouth.

Her tears began afresh, and she took her free hand to pull their linked hands toward her, bringing his fingers to her lips. As she fervently kissed his fingers, she heard his intake of breath, and his other arm wrapped around her waist to pull her against him once more. His arm was trapped between his chest and her mouth, but he didn’t seem to notice. And just as she thought this moment could not be any more precious, she felt his own mouth press against her brow. He  _ was _ here. They  _ were _ together. And her last doubt was destroyed under his soft and firm touch.

They stayed there until the sand was warm beneath Rey’s feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -peering out from behind the door- How'd I do?


	4. Breaking the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did you say to your almost-but-not-quite-really lover when he came back from the dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! I love the encouraging comments; thank you for them! A couple of things:
> 
> 1\. I'm not so much interested in the whys and hows of Ben's return, so there won't be a lot of detail in that sense. I just care that he's back. A lot of fix-it stories are delving into the World between Worlds, which I know nothing about (remember that I know jack-squat about Star Wars, but I am trying to maintain accuracy with what I do reference), and that's cool. That's just not my priority in this story.
> 
> 2\. The rating of this story won't change, in case you're hoping for more sexiness. Explicit/mature content is not really my jam, and the lone paragraph of steaminess in my last chapter is probably the most it'll push in that direction. The topic of sex won't be avoided, and I still like writing some physical stuff, but it won't go the explicit route. I like to give people their privacy, even fictional people.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying this. The action of the story has actually gone WAY slower than I initially planned (what i thought would be a couple paragraphs ended up being a whole chapter, for example), but hopefully the conversations and experiences of our dear ones are still enough to interest you before things get heavier. I hope to strike a good balance of fluff alongside the serious. Crossing fingers!

Ben hadn’t let go of her hand as they made their way inside. To be honest, Rey didn’t mind at all. No matter the assurance she was given through her physical senses, not to mention her Force abilities, it was still difficult to believe he was truly back with her. Keeping their hands entwined gave a more believable impression to this miraculous occurrence.

Beyond the few words they had exchanged as the dawn blazed over them, they had not said a word to each other. In some ways, there was no need to; they could both feel the other’s happiness, which only served to increase their own. It was one never-ending, satisfying cycle that could not be broken. On the other hand, there was still so much to be said, to be asked and answered, that neither had any idea of where to begin. What did you say to your almost-but-not-quite-really lover when he came back from the dead?

Watching Ben duck under low ceilings was entertaining, though. Most of the home could accommodate his massive frame quite well but the passageways were themselves cramped and awkward for him. His steps were slow and his face was pensive as he observed the rooms, a familiar somberness creeping back into his expression that she wanted to banish forever. Maybe it wasn’t practical, but she wished this lonely man who had endured so much pain never had reason to be sad again.

Finally, they came out into the open air of the courtyard, looking out at the sky. It was here Ben reluctantly let go of her hand, making his way to the wall. With a hesitating gesture, he raised a hand and pressed his palm to the wall. He seemed to be listening for something. His eyes were closed. Rey had the ability to sense his every thought and feeling, but she did not want to do so without his permission, and so she waited, hoping it was not too difficult an experience for him to be here.

She was tentative as she broke the silence. “Have you ever come here before?”

His eyes opened and he inclined his head toward her, eyes locking onto hers. “No,” he replied after a brief pause. “I wanted to, once. It was when I was studying with Luke. I didn’t know yet what my grandfather became, but I was curious about him -- about Anakin Skywalker. I asked Luke if we might visit here one day. He was . . . he didn’t say no, but he wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea.” Ben lifted his eyes to the sky. “Now I understand why.”

“The desert leaves something to be desired?” Rey surmised with half a grin, walking closer to him again.

He smiled in kind, but shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Too much pain, I think.”

“Pain?” she pulled up in surprise. If this had been a place of pain for Luke, why would he ask her to place his lightsaber here?

Ben held out his free hand to her, which she quickly took. He did not draw her close like she wanted, but held her hand with purpose and solemnity. “Search. Feel.”

He closed his eyes, and Rey followed suit, breathing deeply. A guttural cry of pain filled her ears, and she immediately felt rage and mourning, watching a scene unfold in her mind’s eye, one of a young man with shorn hair carrying the wrapped form of a woman in his arms outside the homestead. Then her burial, the sadness and bitterness seeping from those left behind. The homestead on fire, acrid smoke filling the air. Another young man arriving on a speeder, too late. She gasped as she recognized his face, full of horror and regret. The pitiful forms on the sand, beyond recognition. Rey wrenched her hand away and the vision disappeared. She didn’t know when she had begun crying, but Ben was there, wiping away her tears once more with a sober expression.

“I’m sorry, Rey. You shouldn’t have to feel such things.”

She took a shuddering breath. “Neither should you.”

She followed his example and pressed her hand against the wall next to his. “There must be more to this place, though,” she murmured, taking his hand again. He was giving her a puzzled look, and she said simply, “Search. Feel.”

When they closed their eyes, more images came rushing in. A woman, weather-beaten but strong and beautiful of face, relishing the view of the sunset, glorying in new-found freedom and the love of a new family. The wistful glances she would give to the open sky, praying that her boy was all right. A husband and wife, cradling a baby handed to them by a cloaked figure who now departed. A young boy, again with that face Rey knew, hurrying to a speeder with a smile, only stopping and darting back to allow the wife, some years older, to kiss him goodbye.

When Rey opened her eyes this time, Ben’s soft smile had returned. He looked at her with gratitude and wonder. She could hear him in her mind.  _ This is why I need you. _

She drew closer to him. “This is why we need each other,” she amended. “Balance, Ben. There wouldn’t be the sweet . . .”

“Without the bitter,” he finished for her. He heaved a sigh and caressed her face. “And we know which of us is the bitter,” he remarked with a poor attempt at levity.

Rey upbraided him with her eyes. “Ben . . .”

“I know,” he huffed, turning away. “I know you don’t want to hear things like that from me. It doesn’t make it any less true.”

She wouldn’t allow him to retreat in such a fashion, and stopped him by stepping in his way. “Maybe once it was. But I have darkness in me, too. You know it. And I need you to balance that for me. Remember?” She took his hand in hers.  _ You’re the one who told me we were a dyad, after all _ .

He nodded, meeting her eyes deliberately.  _ I’ll try _ , she felt him whisper. Out loud he said, “And it seems a dyad is not so easily separated, is it?”

“No,” she replied with a smile. “And I’m forever grateful for it. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted without you.”

Pity filled his eyes as he regarded her. “How long has it been? Here?”

“Nearly four months.”

He nodded, then began to walk aimlessly around the courtyard. Rey ambled beside him. “How long was it for you? Where you were?” she asked.

He stopped in his tracks, an indiscernible furrow on his brow. “Longer. Or shorter. It was not a place where time matters.”

“What was it?” she asked eagerly.

“I don’t really know,” he said, more muted than before, dampening some of her enthusiasm. What exactly had happened to him?

“Was it very painful?” she asked carefully.

“Some of it was,” he admitted in a frank tone, facing her. “Some of it I thought was the most excruciating pain I had ever felt. It -” he stopped himself, looking down at the ground as he began to breathe heavily, fighting for control. There was sudden anger in his face, an emotion she had hoped never to see again. But he was making a concerted effort not to give in to it, which was more than she had ever seen him do as Kylo Ren. Once his shaky breathing had steadied, he looked up at her.

“Rey,” he breathed, his face contorted in anguish, “I cannot tell you everything about the place where I was, if it  _ was _ a place. Even now, there are things I want to tell you, but I’m not able to form the words, as if something is stopping me. Not a malignant force, but . . . it’s not meant for the living world to know. There are experiences and memories slipping away from me, like a curtain is being drawn and I’m not allowed to see it any more because I’m here now. And I think that’s for the best.”

“If you think so,” Rey conceded quietly.

“I know it, Rey,” he said fiercely, stepping closer so that she could feel his breath on her face. “It’s frustrating and unfair, but there are some things that I truly believe now we are not meant to know until we are beyond mortality. It is too much even for Masters in the Force to know. And soon I won’t remember them, either. I can feel it.”  _ Please understand me, Rey. _

“I understand.”

Some of the anguish in his face had drained away as he watched her. “But what I  _ do _ remember, I want to tell you. I do. It’s just not an easy thing to explain, and some of it was very painful.”

“I’m so sorry, Ben.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he replied bitterly. “My suffering was my own fault, and I deserved a harsher judgment than I got.”

She touched his hand.

“But I promise you that there was beauty there, too. Even peace. I want to share that with you, too,” he finished, his eyes earnest and searching. “Just give me time. I give you my word, poor a promise as that is.”

She squeezed his hand now, eyes misty. “It is more than enough. Truly. Just so long as there is time for you to tell it.”

A shadow passed over his features, but disappeared so rapidly that Rey almost instantly thought she imagined it. Again his gaze was directed skyward. “So . . . it’s been nearly four months,” he mused. “How long have you been in Tatooine?”

“Just over two weeks, now.”

He turned his face to her, his crooked smile on full display. “And you’re hiding out from the rest of the Resistance, is that it? Did you steal someone’s rations?”

She breathed a small laugh. “Do you think that petty theft would be enough to force me to hide out in yet another desert?”

He seemed to consider her rebuttal. “True. If you were going to hide out, you may as well pick a world more pleasant. Like Hoth.”

She repressed a shiver. “Don’t make jokes. I’d take the desert over snow and ice any day.”

He cocked his head to one side, pulling her back into the shade of the house. “I don’t know. You can always add more layers on an ice planet; there are only so many you can take off in the desert.”

His comment, though jocular, was not suggestive, but it didn’t stop the hot blush that spread across Rey’s face. She ducked her head away to hide her embarrassment. She wanted to banish the specific memory of that . . . stirring . . . dream from her thoughts, to prevent the possibility of accidentally sharing that image with him, though she was grateful that he seemed to be giving her the same consideration of seeking permission before looking inside her head. But while her attention was focused on controlling her mind, her mortified feelings, acute as they were, still were borne across their bond to him, and he stopped to look at her in confusion.

“What is it?”

She had no ready answer as she felt her face cool, and she stuttered incoherently for several seconds, while he dared to watch her with clear amusement at her agitation. That is, until he reflected on what he had said, and as understanding dawned, the faintest color tipped his cheeks, as well. The satisfaction of seeing him disconcerted wasn’t quite enough to regain her equilibrium, but at least he perceived the situation without her having to clarify openly, sparing her some shame.

She was just beginning to feel calm again when she heard him mutter, very quietly but loud enough to be heard, “All in good time.” His timing was too exact not to be planned, and she shook her head at his audacity. But he had walked ahead of her before making his comment, so his face was conveniently blocked from view.

It did beg the question, though, however foolish she felt to be wondering such callow thoughts when there was so much to be discussed, of what exactly they were to each other. She knew he cared for her, though he had yet to speak the words, but what did that mean moving forward? They had embraced and caressed in the last hour of being reunited, but Ben had not taken advantage of any of the multiple opportunities given him to kiss her. Granted, she could take charge herself, but something told her to tread cautiously, and she was not about directly inquire of him why he had not taken the initiative she wanted him to.

His attention was caught by something in the dim hallway, however, and she had to push her curiosity to the back of her mind as she stood beside him and followed the line of his gaze to BB-8’s shadow. Ben tilted his head at her, eyebrow lifted. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you had company,” he smirked.

She unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile, though successfully managed not to slap his arm, and she moved to start BB-8 up. “You know me,” she said. “I’m always attracting unwanted guests.”

His open guffaw was an unusually welcome sound as BB-8 awoke with the press of a button. Tittering and whirring, the droid began to roll around enthusiastically, ready for the day, when it spotted Ben and abruptly came to a halt. An inquiring series of beeps were directed to Rey as it looked back and forth between the pair. Rey smiled encouragingly.

“This is Ben, BB-8.”

BB-8 was silent for an instant before emitting a suspicious buzz. Ben felt it necessary to step back a few paces as a show of good faith.

“No, he hasn’t come to hurt us,” Rey explained, a pang of sadness puncturing her contentment. BB-8 had little to no knowledge of the connection between Ben Solo and Kylo Ren; however, if this was his reaction to seeing Ben, what could she really expect from her faraway friends? She inhaled deeply and put her attention on the droid in front of her. “He’ll come with us when we go. We’re finally ready to leave.”

BB-8 continued to roll its head around in Ben’s direction, and Ben did his level-best to put on a friendly expression. He was so out of practice at it, though, that he wasn’t sure how convincing he was. The little unit bleeped and dinged a few more times at Rey, who now smiled wide.

“Yes, he is what we were waiting for,” she said, looking back at him, her eyes soft and affectionate. It was easy and natural for him to return  _ her _ smile, at least, and she looked once more at BB-8. “He’s my friend.”

There was a small hitch in her voice before she uttered the word “friend” that Ben couldn’t help hearing. The droid did not detect such a nuance and merely rolled toward the kitchen, apparently satisfied with Rey’s answers and ready to loosen any inner workings that might have jammed up overnight.

There was nothing in Rey’s smile as he walked up to her that bespoke any hidden feelings of frustration or sadness, but Ben was no fool. Her choice of words was too careful to be ignored. They both knew perfectly well they could not be mere friends, but what was he to do? He had only just returned, and there was so much unknown about what might happen to him, what might diverge their paths from each other. Could he really speak the words or take the actions that would leave no doubt of his feelings? Was it fair to bind her down in such a way when he had so much still to make up for? He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a rumbling sound above that made the earth quiver slightly.

They shared a look, Rey shrugged, and they made their way back up to the door. He took her hand in his, feeling cowardly about his silence, but still selfish enough to want to keep hold of her somehow. He felt her approval at his gesture and could imagine her smile that was hidden from view as she led them up the stairs.

The source of the noise was quickly apparent as the enormous sandcrawler shuddered to a slow stop in front of them. Jawas began to pour out, and the scrunch and creak of the main door grated on their ears. Ben quickly stepped forward, hailing the attention of the nearest Jawa. “There’s no need to unload,” he hastily called out.

The Jawa he spoke to either didn’t believe him or was offended that he would say such a thing, because he uttered a great deal of jabber Ben’s way that Rey still didn’t understand. She stepped closer in order to be helpful with the pointing and gesturing she had come to expect when communicating with the creatures, but Ben surprised her by laughing, an infectious sound filled with humor and glee. His face was suddenly years younger, and Rey couldn’t help staring, marveling at the transformation of the man standing before her.

“I see. But surely we’ve got to be one of your first stops of the morning. It’s not at all close to midday.”

Rey’s mouth was agape with astonishment. First a laugh freely given, and now this unveiling of knowledge? He turned to share a smile with her, but upon seeing her face, held up his hand to stop the reply of the Jawa. He stepped closer, placed his hand lightly around her hip, and said in a low voice, “Surprised to know you’re not the only linguist around?” His teasing eyes dared her to retaliate, but she only smiled at him tolerantly, too pleased to tease back.

He winked at her surreptitiously, and then separated from her to engage with the Jawa again, who had begun directing his fellows to unload the crawler, despite the potential customer’s declaration. She was again so caught off-guard that she felt frozen for a beat. Ben Solo could wink? Of  _ course _ Ben Solo could wink. Warmth surged through her as she watched him. It would take time, naturally, but she looked forward to every moment that he unraveled more and more of his true self to her.

But for now, he was arguing with the stubborn creature who apparently insisted on displaying its wares.

“No, no, we aren’t interested!” he repeated. “We have no use for your droids.”

His tone had reached a timbre that finally convinced the Jawa that he was serious, and the hooded being beckoned to the others, jabbering more directions to them. There was a collective groan that sounded distinctly disappointed, and the few droids they had unloaded were pointed back onto the crawler.

But the Jawa wasn’t done with Ben. He motioned toward Rey and then the homestead, drawing another laugh from Ben. She smiled again in response, thinking she could listen to that sound forever.

He turned back toward her, inviting her to share in the joke. “He wants to know, since we have no use for droids, if you’re interested in selling your BB unit? He’s asked you the same question the last two times they’ve driven past.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, letting forth a laugh of her own. So there  _ was _ something she had been missing in her attempts to communicate. “Certainly not,” she replied stoutly.

He smiled in response, and turned back to the Jawa. “No, not for sale.”

The Jawa still did not wish to give up, although it seemed there was nothing else to be said. It pointed up at Ben who stood so tall above it, then at Rey.

“No, we’re not staying. There’s no point in your coming back here.”

With that, the little creature threw its hands in the air, aware now that it was not merely an imbecile with no communication skills that prevented any lucrative business at this place. But before climbing back into the crawler, it turned back to Ben and jabbered one final time.

Rey did not miss the slight pursing of Ben’s lips as he looked quickly at her, then back to the Jawa. “Yes,” he said, with no hint of elaboration. The Jawa boarded the crawler, and Ben walked back toward her, placing his arm around her waist again.

As they watched the sandcrawler sputter its engines to life, crunching and grinding as it was coaxed forward by its hidden passengers, Rey glanced up at Ben. “What did he say to you?”

“Hmm?” he was startled out of whatever reverie he had been contemplating. “When?”

“Just now, before he got back in the crawler.”

“Oh.” A pleasing and mild flush spread over his pale face while he gathered the courage to translate. “He asked, since I felt confident speaking for you, if I was your mate.”

An awkward wave of flattered pleasure washed over her. “Oh,” she repeated. “I see.” Ben  _ had _ replied in the affirmative to that question, after all.

Still, it would be even better if he would tell  _ her _ so, too.


	5. This One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first day together draws to a close. Sparks fly.

“Ow!” Ben exclaimed, pulling his hand sharply away from the sparks in the panel. He shook his hand testily, muttering, “I’m barely back half a day . . .” before returning his focus to the offending wire. He continued with a few choice curses under his breath, and Rey found it difficult to stop her budding laughter from where she sat. He threw her a dirty look that apparently was meant to make her quiver with fear, but since there was no real rage behind his eyes, she still felt safe in being amused. That in and of itself was astonishing, considering that barely an hour ago she had no idea what to feel when Ben took his first steps up the ramp into the Falcon.

His demeanor and gait had been a close mirror to his slow consideration in Luke’s childhood home, but Rey knew that setting foot in his father’s beloved ship was of much greater personal significance to him. She trailed him by a few steps as he walked its halls, finally stopping at the cockpit. This time she would not speak, no matter her concern when she saw him ball his fist tightly at his side, and a surge of guilt and conflict coursed through her that she knew belonged to him. It was her first solid realization that, though Ben had turned to the Light once more, there was still a battle within him being fought to maintain his control. She stepped closer to him then, laying a hand softly on his arm, and knew immediately that he was soothed by her support. Unclenching his fist, he took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go to complete his private circuit of the ship.

Before too long, though, it became clear that his observations of the Falcon were less introspective, and Rey felt the shift in him as he began to inspect the separate parts more closely. His attention was most drawn to the navicomputer, and he dropped to his knees, his disapproval clear as he opened up a panel to see the mish-mash of wires and cables.

“How in the galaxy were you able to pilot your way here, Rey?” was the first exasperated exclamation that broke the long silence. “It’s a wonder you didn’t collide with an asteroid field on your first jump!”

Almost immediately he demanded that she bring him a toolkit, and he hunkered down on the floor, evidently determined to fix whatever problems she had managed to overlook on her journey. He pointed out a system of old wires that were barely connecting, and shook his head at her pointed reply that she had done just fine without him so far.

“Better than fine,” she couldn’t help adding snidely, “considering there were no enemies chasing me, trying to blast us out of the air.”

He had pulled up at that, but there was no hidden bite to her comment, and he let it slide only with a raised eyebrow before turning back to the panel. “Well, if we hope to leave this planet and remain in one piece, I think we’d better make sure she can fly without us breaking down mid-jump. Check the power core, will you, and make sure there aren’t any leaks? The motivator could be a problem -”

“I’ll check,” she interrupted, annoyed and yet pleased by his instructions. Perhaps he really could make his peace being on this ship. “It’s not like Chewie and I were doing nothing to maintain her the last few months.”

Somehow, keeping their hands busy made conversation easier, as they consulted each other on the ship’s systems, interspersed with Rey’s account of her journey to build her lightsaber. She hadn’t strapped it on when she had felt the pull of the unknown sunrise that morning, and it still lay in her room, but Ben expressed a keen interest in seeing it, at least once he was satisfied with the work on the Falcon. Rey made quick work of her various inspections of the ship with BB-8’s help, not as concerned with its foibles considering she had been flying it recently, and was soon lounging about in the captain’s chair, watching the changes in Ben’s face as she recounted her experiences. She thought his unguarded smile in Exegol had been a revelation; now she had humor, surprise, skepticism, confusion, pride, and a myriad of other expressions to add to the catalog of Ben’s face.

“So, Kudo, huh?” he commented once he was done grousing over the shock to his fingers. “I’ll bet you loved that place. Felt right at home.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, it was fairly obvious to me that I wasn’t going to find any crystals there once I got a good look at it. But he assured me there had been an Imperial mining facility there.”

“Oh, there was,” Ben replied, his eyes still on his work, “just not for kyber. Be glad he didn’t send you somewhere you’d find unfriendly inhabitants. The Kudon have a pretty good opinion of the Jedi.”

“Why would he send me somewhere with unfriendly inhabitants? I thought Bothans were on the side of the Republic.”

“They are,” he grunted, pushing himself up to a sitting position on the floor to face her. “They fought against the Empire, and they were instrumental in the rebuilding of the New Republic.”

“But . . .?”

He smirked. “They are also a species known for intrigue, and it wasn’t unheard of for them to use their spy network to play both sides. Fortunately for the Rebels, the Bothans were generally on their side, but you can’t expect every individual to be as morally upstanding as the group as a whole. He didn’t intentionally send you into danger; just sidelined you from where you actually wanted to be. Besides, Rey, you,” he lifted his pliers to point at her, “are not the Republic. You’re just you, and you were trusting that he had good intelligence for you on your quest. He might have thought it was a good joke, sending you there.”

Rey huffed, a little annoyed that she seemed to know so little about the galaxy and the species that resided in it. She envied Ben’s knowledge, and couldn’t help the feeling of unease that knotted up in her stomach. He knew so much and she so little, about everything, it seemed. What did she possibly have to offer him? She felt a nudge on her toe, and looked up from her self-pity to see his eyes trained intently on her.

“Don’t think that, Rey. You’re not an imbecile,” he said firmly. She hadn’t realized her insecurity had been so loud across the bond. “You’d know all this, too, if you’d been given half a chance to learn it.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he overrode her before she had a chance to speak. “And you’re not the only one who doesn’t know these things; not everyone grew up with one of the most famous politicians in the galaxy as their mother.”

His stare was fierce. _You have so much to offer, Rey. Don’t doubt that. NEVER doubt that._

She nodded. “In any case,” she returned to the subject of the untrustworthy Bothan, “if it was a joke, I didn’t find it very funny. Why would anyone, now of all times, be so dishonest?”

Ben looked at the floor, half a smile tugging at his lips as he considered her words. He looked back at her, a cynical glint in his eyes. “That’s the way of the world. No matter if there’s war, peace, or something in between, there will always be criminals and other low-lifes around to take advantage. And this is prime time for them to strike, just when good will is returning to the galaxy, and fear isn’t so rampant. It’s easier for good people to trust, and easier for them to use and betray it.”

“That’s a pessimistic attitude, Ben Solo,” she remarked.

He shrugged. “Call it practical.”

“So then I must be a naive fool,” Rey said glumly.

“Maybe,” he agreed, nodding his head. “But I believe that’s what makes you remarkable, Rey.”

“Remarkable?” she scoffed.

“Yes!” he said emphatically. “Look at yourself, Rey, where you came from. Look at everything you suffered, everything you’ve gone through in your life. You’ve seen some of the worst kind of scum in the universe, but you never let that stop you from hoping.” He shifted once more, now sitting on his knees, reaching his hands up to hers on her lap. “Yes, it’s naive, and even foolish to some, but you always believed there was more out there for you, rather than letting misery swallow you and let you give up, content to do nothing but sweat out your days in a forgotten desert. You always had hope.” He stood now and laid a hand on her shoulder. “And not just for yourself.”

She smiled, his adamant belief in her goodness a warm reassurance. He returned it, keeping his gaze soft on her. He, his person, here and now with her, was what she considered remarkable. Miraculous, even. And yet he was so certain of her. How did she deserve the gift of his return?

She cracked a wry smile. “Where’s your practicality now?”

He grinned lopsidedly. “I’m just as practical; I was just pointing out that you’re not.”

She swatted him lightly on the arm as he chuckled, and the next moment she was out of her seat, holding him once more in a vice-like grip. She felt his surprise, but it dissipated quickly, and his arms wrapped around her, his head buried in her shoulder.

“What’s this, Rey?” he murmured.

As if she needed a reason to hold him close when he’d been away from her for so long. “You,” her voice wobbled as she felt grateful tears forming yet again. “You talk about my hope, but there were so many times that I felt like I couldn’t really hope for you, for _this_. No matter what Luke said, it was so hard to believe sometimes that I could have you back. And now you’re here,” she pulled away a little, making sure that she kept close enough that his hands would remain at her waist. “And I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this happy in my life.”

His eyes spoke volumes as he reacted silently to her final statement. Gratitude, disbelief, sympathy, affection, and a deep understanding passed through them. He lifted one hand to cradle her face, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “Neither have I,” he said quietly and fervently.

They stood there for a moment, awash in contentment and peace. But too soon Ben’s expression changed again, a flicker of trouble touching his eyes, and he looked away, his hand dropping to his side. Rey could feel unease building up in him again, as well as seeing it in the downturn of his mouth. She remembered the shadow of something she had seen earlier, and now knew for certain that she hadn’t imagined it. He had something to tell her, and whatever it was, she knew she didn’t want to hear it. He took in a deep breath, swallowed, and faced her.

“Rey,” he began, his voice already ragged from the inner torment he was battling, and her own anxiety rocketed from a vague dread to sheer panic at the sound. “We need to talk about -”

“No!” she interrupted vehemently, grabbing his hand and clutching it to her. _Not yet. Please._

“Rey, you know -” he tried to argue, but she overrode him again.

“No, Ben, whatever you have to say can wait.”

“But -”

“No!” she repeated, her voice a knife cutting across him. “I won’t let you. Not now.”

He stared sadly at her. _This can’t wait forever, you know._

She closed her eyes, willing her breath to steady. “It can wait a day,” she said shakily. “We haven’t had . . . we haven’t even had one day. Let us have this one day, Ben,” she pleaded. “This one day.” _Please_.

His chest rose and fell several times before she heard any response from him. But finally he nodded. “All right,” he whispered. “All right.” Rey felt her own head nod quickly in response, desperate to agree and move past the _thing_ that could ruin it all. She would not give him the chance. Only now did she loosen her grip on his hand; he took advantage of the slack to disentangle it and lift it once more to stroke her cheek. 

It wasn’t until BB-8 came beeping along that they were able to move again.

* * *

Rey bit down into the crusty bread with a contented sigh. It was possibly the last chance she would have for (relatively) fresh food for a few days, at least, and she was going to enjoy it as much as she could. Ben sat beside her, chewing slowly and carefully, his mind occupied and distant. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he would be terribly offended if she prodded and poked until she saw exactly what was in his thoughts.

She wasn’t terribly discreet, it seemed, because he whipped his head around quickly to catch her staring, and she blushed. His smug look only served to make her blush spread, and she stuffed the makeshift sandwich into her mouth as a distraction.

He would not be deterred. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, his smirk clear and visible.

She wouldn’t embarrass herself further by trying to speak until her mouth was empty, so he waited while she chewed painfully on the too-large bite she had taken, the corners of his mouth deepening all the while as he watched her. Finally, she was able to swallow.

“That was actually what I was wondering,” she admitted. “I wanted to know what you were thinking about.”

He nodded in understanding. “I was thinking about the man in Anchorhead.”

“Mattu?”

A short nod. “I was just wondering if we were right to seek him out.”

She lifted her eyebrows as she smiled, and he smiled in resignation. He knew precisely what she was thinking -- his _practicality_ , as he called it, was rearing its ugly head.

After BB-8 interrupted them, their attention had turned back to the Falcon and the supplies they would need to depart. It was quickly decided, mainly for Ben’s peace of mind, that they would need to restock some emergency parts, as well as replenish any food rations that were dwindling. Once this decision was made, it was quick work to fly the Falcon to the small town of Anchorhead. Rey felt a little silly flying the ship to the town, but they had no access to a speeder, and it was far too late in the day to walk there and back again.

She was loath to part from Ben, but they agreed that splitting up would speed up their errand, and they picked their way along the local markets. Once she finished with her tasks, Rey was surprised to find Ben haggling with an old man over a pile of fabric near their designated meeting place. Keeping her distance, she marveled again at the utter size of Ben’s frame as he towered over the withered man he spoke with. And yet, in _this_ Ben she saw no attempt to intimidate, only a confident authority who was set on a certain price. She breathed a laugh when the old man finally accepted whatever Ben offered with a resigned shrug, and they shook hands cordially. Ben traded away some of Rey’s remaining cash, and gathered the fabric in his large hands.

She cocked her head at him in question when their eyes met, and although he kept a mostly neutral expression on his face, she did see the tips of his ears turn red as he came closer to her. He gestured with the cloth, and clarified before she even asked, “I thought I might like a change of clothes.”

“Oh.” Apparently, admitting that he wanted something else to wear was embarrassing, as he kept his eyes conveniently darting around the surrounding buildings instead of looking directly at her. Was there a touch of the fastidious in Ben Solo? she wondered.

“He also suggested we talk to a man named Mattu about watching out for the farm,” he pointed in a certain direction, and she followed him into a nearby street without further comment on the clothes he carried.

It hadn’t been too difficult to find Mattu and conduct their business with him, and Rey had been content to forget him. But it was not so easy for Ben to forget, as clearly he’d been considering the man all through dinner.

“Ben, what choice do we have, really, even if he does nothing?” Rey asked.

He shrugged. “You’re right; I just don’t think it’s right to leave the place entirely abandoned.”

“Especially not after the work I’ve put into cleaning it,” Rey remarked with a grin.

He acknowledged her quip, and then glanced around. “It’s not an easy life, moisture farming, but there are probably many in the galaxy, displaced or abandoned, who are looking for just such a place. Hard, but out of the way. Even peaceful. It should be used by someone who needs a good start.”

“You just worry that your newly-met steward will charge whoever comes along a king’s ransom for it.”

“Yes. Well, that or he’ll ignore it altogether and it’ll go back to being what it was. And it’s . . . it’s not what Luke would have wanted,” his voice trailed off as he spoke his uncle’s name, difficult to say but without any hint of rancor. Rey squeezed his hand.

“Ben,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to stir up trouble, but still feeling obliged to explain, “about Luke. He . . . he failed you. Certainly, he failed you. But -”

“He wouldn’t have actually killed me,” Ben cut in quietly. “I know.”

“You do?” she asked in some consternation. “How?”

He smiled gently. “I learned the truth about many things, Rey, where I was.”

Her lips formed an “oh” without making a sound. Now he squeezed her hand in return. _Soon, Rey, I’ll tell you. I promise._

Ben returned to the last of his food, and Rey followed his example, the meal being finished in a comfortable silence. Well, as silent as it could be with BB-8 constantly beeping and rolling around them, a little tired of being ignored since this large stranger had appeared. Ben finished first, but did not move from his seat, choosing instead to lean back in his chair and watch Rey, his eyes studying her steadily. Ordinarily this would make Rey nervous and provoke her into finishing her food faster, but she took his unfailing gaze as a private challenge to stay the course, so she deliberately took her time, returning his look with a defiant one of her own. He smiled in amused pleasure at that.

Once she was done, however, he wasted no time. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her to her feet. “I think it’s about time you showed me your saber. I’ve been waiting all day to see it.”

Even though she had spent a considerable amount of time telling him about her saber quest, the idea of leaving his side just to fetch the lightsaber was not something that she had felt compelled to pursue. But now was as good a time as any, and with a brief stop to grab it, they made their way outside. The suns were now beginning to set, setting the sky on fire in a blaze of oranges and pinks, the lightest breeze lifting and swirling the sand around them.

Now Rey did feel nervous, as though activating the lightsaber was a mere spectacle, and not one of very much significance. Ben stepped away from her, waiting, and he gave her an encouraging nod. What would he think? She had seen only three colors in a saber before hers had burst out its surprising yellow-gold, and she was suddenly afraid that meant something was wrong. But it was now or never. She turned the switch.

The familiar hum of the blade rose and fell as she moved along the sand, twisting and turning in her forms, afraid of appearing silly in front of Ben, but still proud of her achievement in creating something so perfectly her own. Her movements became more fluid and quick, her breaths coming in faster. She could almost forget she had an audience at all, so focused she became on guiding the saber through its paces, feeling the energy flow into her and out through her actions. It was only for a few minutes, but it was exhilarating, keeping and giving control with every step.

Finally it was time to stop, and with one last graceful stroke, she came to a halt. Her uncertainty returned as she deactivated the saber, chancing a glance Ben’s way. He stood stock still, his face completely unreadable, and she felt the anxious knot in her stomach return.

Slowly, he walked to her, and she was relieved to see that though his face was still, his eyes were just as effusive as ever. They were full of emotion, pride and awe seeping through, and she finally let her anxiety die away to let his feelings pour into her. She hadn’t realized she had been blocking out his blatant approval with her own insecurities. But now she felt his feelings full-force and was overwhelmed.

 _Do you like it?_ She could have kicked herself; she sounded like a child.

He caught her wrist in his hand, pulling her hand and the saber it held toward him. He did not touch it, only looked. Then he looked her in the eyes again, that small smile of his peeking through. “It’s magnificent.”

“Really?” she breathed.

“Rey,” he said, sounding perplexed and giving her a pitying look, “is there something about it _you’re_ displeased with?” He looked genuinely irked by her self-doubt.

“Well, no,” she admitted with trepidation. “But I’d never seen this color before; I didn’t know if . . . something was wrong with it,” she ended meekly.

He exhaled a laugh, then caught himself. No matter how much she had already learned, there was yet more she could learn. “No, nothing is wrong with it. In fact, it’s entirely fitting.”

“It is?”

He beamed. She could be so wise, and yet she could still sound so young. “There was a Jedi Temple on Coruscant. It . . .” he trailed off for a moment, remembering the history of this temple and the sad tale of what it became. “It’s not there anymore, but there was a group of Jedi Knights who were tasked with keeping it safe, the Temple Guard. Do you want to know the color of their blades?”

The tiniest smile graced her features as she made the connection. “Really?”

“Really.” Her smile bloomed as he continued. “You are a protector. When those weaker than you have crossed your path, you’ve kept them safe. When someone has been threatened, you’ve defended them. When even the darkest -” he stopped again, his voice catching in his throat, and his eyes became moist, shining in the dimming light of the sunset. “When the darkest of souls has done everything to intimidate, hurt, and possess you, you have still gone to his aid, sure that you could save him.”

Every moment that passed as he spoke those reassuring words, she felt him in her very soul, sadness and joy, hope and despair, all building to this moment of discovery. Standing before him, she didn’t know if she could take the staggering amount of emotion before exploding. If he didn’t take action now, she would. Her chest began to rise and fall again in short spurts, not from physical exertion but from the mesmerizing spell he cast over her, threatening to crush her.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he also seemed to be struggling for air as he stole his hand around her neck, pulling her in. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.” The pressure seemed to crackle and spark around them, and he stared down at her, wrapping his other arm around her waist, closing the gap even more. And yet, maddeningly enough, he still kept his distance, waiting for something. But she knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. And she would not wait any longer.

“Ben,” she murmured. _What are you waiting for?_

The lightsaber hilt fell to the ground as Ben finally, completely closed the space between them, his lips crashing against hers, a little clumsily but more passionately and desperately than in all those lonely dreams. Again and again, his released passion drew her in, and she gave herself up to his embrace, gripping his shoulders in an attempt to brace herself. But she knew, in the tiniest part of her mind that still had some room for reason, that the only thing keeping her upright was his strength. And that was all right, because she belonged to him, and he to her.

In that moment, as sunset gave way to twilight, they belonged.


	6. Ben's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben recounts his experience. Plenty of vagueness, but some answers, too.

It wasn’t until the dusk had turned to night and they removed, exhausted by the day’s efforts, to the bedroom that Ben spoke. Perhaps he felt safest recounting his experience in the dark, lying on his back and holding Rey in his arms, her body tucked into his side. It gave him the courage he needed to dive in, no stumbling preface, just an abrupt statement to let Rey know that he was ready to share.

“My mother’s voice was the first thing I knew.” Rey lifted her head from his chest to make out what she could of his face in the darkness. “ _There_ , I mean,” he clarified. “I don’t know how long it was, but the first I heard or saw of anything was her voice.”

Rey laid her head back down, and took his hand in hers. “What did she say?”

He did not answer right away, only intertwined their fingers gently. “I wasn’t sure at first. I just knew it was her voice trying to reach me. That was when I realized I still had some form to me, but there was nothing else. It was dark all around, and I must have stood on something, but I saw no floor. Just me.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I used to feel the safest in the dark. Even as a child. The light was too bright, and anybody could see you if they looked hard enough. I wanted to hide so often.”

“From what?”

“From . . .” he sighed as he considered his answer. “From all the visiting dignitaries, from all the strangers who felt a claim to my family, from . . . my parents’ arguments, which half the time were about me. I tried to hide from the voices, too. Well, the _one_ voice that wouldn’t go away, that haunted me. I didn’t realize then that hiding away made it easier for that voice to find me.” He took his hand away and ran it through his hair in frustration. “I was a fool.”

“You were a child,” she reminded him gently, reaching across his body to hug him. “You didn’t know yet.”

“Even so.” She felt the vibrations of the bed as he shook his head. “The point is, I used to feel like the darkness was where I could hide most effectively, where nobody could find out everything I was thinking. But that wasn’t the case _there_. It was a darkness deeper than any I had never known, and yet I felt completely exposed. My mind, my heart, everything was there for the taking and I was frightened of who would see me as I truly was.

“But I kept on hearing my mother, far off but on her way to me. I wanted to run to her, to understand what she said, but even though I was moving my body, I wasn’t going anywhere. So I decided that it wasn’t for me to reach her, but wait for her to find me. And as soon as I made that decision, suddenly she was there. Beside me.”

His chest spasmed underneath her head, and she burrowed deeper into his side, holding him tightly. She felt his lips brush her hair as he calmed his trembling voice.

“I had seen pictures of her when she was young, but I had never seen her like that. Still as strong as ever, and beautiful, but different. At peace and finally without care. When she lived, even when she was young, she always had a cause to fight for. But _there_ she had fulfilled the mission she had set out for herself. Whatever it was.

“She held my hand. Said my name. Smiled. And then I knew everything she had ever done for me. I saw her triumphs and follies. I saw her mistakes, especially the ones she made with me, but now I knew _why_ she did what she did. Once, I allowed that voice to twist and corrupt every word I heard from my parents, convinced that their worry was really the kind of fear that grows into hatred. But standing there with her I knew the truth. And so did she.

“Do you remember what I said earlier, Rey?” She lifted her head again to see his face tipped awkwardly to try and meet her eyes. “That I found out the truth about a lot of things?” She nodded. “Learning the truth about . . . _everything_ . . . was what happened there. Seeing events and people without my limited, mortal perspective.

“I wasn’t alone any more. And I was surrounded,” he lay his head back again, and so did Rey, feeling the wonder in his voice as he continued. “I was surrounded by so many people, and they all knew me, even if I didn’t know them. And yet I _did_ know them, even the ones I had never met. And they came to be with me, to lead me and help me understand. I learned about my father and mother. I learned about Alderaan and Naboo. About Wookiees and life debts and bounty hunters,” he let out a chuckle and his fingers drifted to her arm, lightly tracing her skin. “Stories I had always heard, but now I could see them all, and they weren’t legendary figures any more, but real people who fought and cared and worried and planned and made split-second decisions. It was truth as I had never seen in life.”

Rey smiled. She was sure she’d never heard Ben sound so happy, and her body was warmed by the joy of hearing him speak of the peace he had experienced.

“My father was there, and Luke. I don’t remember ever moving my mouth to talk with them, but we spoke. There was grief and bitterness, but comfort and forgiveness, too. I think we must have spent hours simply apologizing for everything we had done to each other. Or maybe it was only a second. I still don’t know.

“And then _he_ was there,” Ben’s voice deepened, emotion seeping through his words, though his touch was still feather-light on her arm. “Anakin. The man who I thought I had spent years crying out to hear. But it was Vader I had wanted before; this was Anakin. He was a boy, a young knight, an old and broken man, all at once. I wish . . . I wish I could remember what he said, but I felt his pride and empathy. And the strength of his love.

“The love from them all. It was there. For _me_ ,” his voice was strangled by the tears Rey knew he was now shedding. “After everything I did to forfeit the love of my family, it was there, and I was consumed by it. I still can’t believe -” He couldn’t continue, the memory overpowering his ability to speak, and he gripped her to him.

Rey allowed the height of his emotion to pass before commenting. “It sounds wonderful, Ben.”

When he had sufficiently recovered, he nodded and agreed. “It was. And I needed it. It sustained me through what came next.”

A shiver of dread ran through her at such ominous words. _What came next?_

“In some cases, knowing the truth brought comfort and understanding, but facing other truths about my life was not so pleasant. In fact, it was horrifying.” He shuddered, and his grip on her arm tightened for a moment before he let go entirely. “I saw everything. Relived every atrocity I committed and countless others that I was at least complicit in. And I felt the anguish of every person I hurt.”

She felt him begin to pull away from her, his shame and guilt influencing his movements, whether intentional or latent. But she wouldn’t allow him to distance himself. He had finally felt the accepting love of his family; she would not permit him to forget such a feeling in life again. She clutched his shoulder, halting his progress and steadying him against her once more. Again a shuddering breath coursed through him, but at least now he knew she would not let him go.

“What I did,” he stammered, his voice punctuated by sharp seizures of breath, “the suffering I brought about, it was . . . excruciating. I never knew such agony. I thought I had struggled and felt torn in two before, but it was nothing to this.”

A tear escaped Rey’s eye; the stark and sudden shift in his story rent her heart.

“I can’t - I won’t,” he uttered harshly, “tell you any more about it, Rey. It is a torment to try and remember it, and I won’t put you through it, too. It’s enough that it happened.”

“Why?” she pled. “Why did you have to be put through such torture?”

He breathed out a humorless laugh. “Because I needed to know what I had done. There was no way around it. I am- was-” he corrected himself, because he knew she would insist upon it, “a monster. I deserved to feel it.”

“But . . . you had that voice inside you, polluting and corrupting everything around you for so long. You weren’t responsible for Snoke, or Palpatine,” she argued.

“But I was responsible for my choice to follow that path. Even after Luke’s betrayal, I still could have made a different choice. I could have stayed my ground, defended myself with the knowledge that I wasn’t responsible for the destruction of the temple, could have remained long enough to know how fleeting Luke’s impulse really was. Or at the very least, I could have returned to my parents. Instead I went to Snoke. I truly felt I had no choice but to abandon it all, but I still could have done something, _anything_ , different. And the blood I spilled -”

“That was Kylo Ren,” Rey interrupted insistently.

His voice was sad but firm in his reply. “But I still did it. I _chose_ to become Kylo Ren. I still bear responsibility, even if other forces were working against me. So I deserved the pain. But I _was_ given the strength to endure it; there was that mercy granted me.”

A sliver of anger brought on by her fierce desire to protect him slipped through her response. “I don’t see how you can speak of your suffering so calmly. It seems absolutely cruel to me.”

He laughed quietly again, only this time there was genuine humor in him. And he finally allowed his hand to graze along her arm again in a soothing motion. “And there is my protector with her yellow blade again, so sure and determined to defend me against even the Force itself.”

She could appreciate his attempt to soften the mood, but she could not completely extinguish her ire. “Was it the Force doing this to you? What is fair about that?”

“I don’t know what was behind all this,” he said more seriously. “But I can speak so calmly about this because it was only fair I knew the truth of what I did to others.” There was no missing the emphasis he gave to the repetition of the word _fair_ . “And Rey, just because I _speak_ calmly about it does not mean I _am_ calm.”

He drew her hand into his and directed it toward his chest, where he laid it above his heart. He did not need to speak for her to know what he wished her to do. The loose fabric of his shirt barely registered in her mind as she flattened her palm and focused her energy on sensing him. In a flash, a riot of emotions rushed through her, anger and pain chief among them. A righteous feeling of vindication originating from herself arose at the recognition of such sensations, but she was soon aware of other feelings: resignation, acceptance, and still that lingering shame that tempered Ben’s rage into sorrow.

Her fingers relaxed and curled. _All right, all right. I understand._

“Do you?” he murmured.

She huffed, still a little indignant but more reconciled to Ben’s acceptance of his ordeal. It was not her place to change his feelings. “Yes.” She allowed a moment of silence before continuing. “Was that all? Do you know why you were able to return?”

Once more his body tensed underneath her hand, and her connection to his feelings was muted. Not entirely, but enough so that she felt the difference. “Ben?”

He was slow to respond, and even when he spoke, he picked his words tentatively. “I think . . . there must have been more. I know I’ve forgotten . . . _some_ thing, if not many things. But,” he took another bracing breath, “there was something else, and it was to do with you, with our bond.”

“The dyad, you mean?” She shifted so that she now lay on her stomach, crossing her arms on his chest to lean across him so that she might look directly at his face. As much as she could with the dark permeating the room, at least.

“Yes,” he said, lifting a hand to stroke her hair. “Our dyad was exactly why I could not truly die. I couldn’t make that crossing alone; you were back here, tethering me to life, such as it was for me. We had to be together or I would remain in that half-existence.”

“Well, thank goodness for our dyad, then,” Rey remarked. If their connection was strong enough to keep Ben tied to her, defying death itself, she was not going to complain.

He sighed, and through the little she could feel from him, a great weight still hung over what he was going to tell her. But she could not tell if it was sorrow or reluctance, or something else entirely. “I was given a choice. Three options. I could remain in that state, waiting but unable to do anything else, until it was your time to join me. I could return to life, to you, and begin to make recompense for all the harm I had done.” He paused. “Or I could bring you to _me_. Exactly at that moment of decision.”

His meaning did not register with her immediately. After all, it was clear what choice he had made. But then she realized what the third choice he disclosed really _meant_. “Oh,” was all she could say. Her breath seemed stolen from her.

“Rey, I never would have -” he gulped. “I couldn’t do that. How could I? What a selfish choice, to force you away from life,” he rasped out painfully. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Why?” she asked again, anger bubbling up in her once more. “Why would that be a choice? If the Force was behind this, why does it do such terrible things?”

Without warning, he sat up, and she was compelled to follow suit. He took her hands in his, grasping them tightly. “I don’t blame the Force for that choice, Rey. Because there was a time once that I _would_ have chosen it, and whatever power was offering it to me _knew_ it.”

Her body went cold. “You would have . . .?” she couldn’t bear to finish the question, and she was tempted to pull her hands away.

“When I offered you my hand,” Ben continued, strengthening his hold on her as if he knew her temptation, “on the _Supremacy_ , I asked you to abandon everything to join me. Your friends, your cause, everything you believed in. To _let it all die_. All just to join me. That man that I was, that man who offered you his hand, who was so warped that he thought telling you you were nothing was a good idea, to separate you from everything but himself -- he would have taken that choice that I was given.”

Rey felt a little comfort from Ben’s clarification, understanding and knowing as she did that he was truly no longer that man she had fought with and deserted. It was a disturbing thought, nonetheless. Had she known, then, the depths that Kylo Ren had sunk to?

“But that man died. And I never - _never_ ,” he repeated adamantly, “would make that choice now. I realized why it was offered to me, but I also knew with absolute certainty I would _never_ do such a thing to you. It wasn’t an option for me; it was tossed out like last month’s garbage -- immediately and with a great amount of disgust.”

His eyes that communicated so eloquently were obscured from view by the shadows, so Rey had to rely on other sources to sense his veracity. Fortunately, the fervency of his words and the return of their connection made it easy for her to believe him. Kylo Ren may have sacrificed her life, but Ben Solo never would.

“And once that choice was tossed out?” she probed, allowing some gentleness into her voice again.

Even in the darkness she could tell that he smiled. “I came to Tatooine.”

Once more the ever-more familiar warmth returned to her body, taking root in her breast and blossoming into every part of her being. He felt that warmth, too, lifting her hands to his lips to kiss them before pulling her back toward him. There was a slight fumble as their lips searched for each other, but with a laugh they did meet in a gentle kiss. Peace was slowly restored to the balance as they shifted and guided each other back to lie down and let sleep finally claim them.

Rey didn’t resist a final gibe, though. “And that took you almost four months? I could have been back in two.”

He chuckled, rubbing her back softly. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”


	7. Morning Has Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben have their difficult conversation. Angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a plan in mind with this story, and a definite end I am working toward, but I still don't know how many chapters this thing will be. It's ended up becoming a bigger beast than I initially thought! But I hope you'll stick with it; still more angst and difficulty to come, but also lovey-ness and fluff, because . . . you know, our babies deserve some goodness. Thank you for the kind comments and kudos! My hope is to update twice a week, but that may not always happen -- it's been nearly a week since my last chapter, after all. (oops.) Anyway, hope you enjoy. This has been very static so far, not much action, and I will readily admit that I am not an action writer, but there will be other things happening besides conversation! Promise.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the security of being held in Ben’s arms, but Rey was not roused from her slumber that morning until well after the suns had risen. She opened her eyes slowly, and saw BB-8 peeking through the door frame, beeping softly in concern. She released a breathy laugh from her nose and waved her fingers at the droid, who had never known her to sleep so long. BB-8 emitted another series of beeps at her, then rolled out of sight again. It was then that Rey registered the weight of an arm slung over her body.

A little relieved that the past day had not been one extended fantasy, she turned carefully so as not to disturb Ben in case he still slept. Sure enough, his eyes were closed peacefully, his breathing deep and steady. His hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, and she didn’t resist the urge to smooth it back. He inhaled a deeper breath at her touch, but otherwise didn’t stir, and she was glad for this chance to observe him.

His features were such a contradiction, she mused. His nose, ears, and even his smile were over-large. The shape of his face was not at all symmetrical. All of these together should have added up to a strange-looking man. And yet he was beautiful. The contrast of his luscious dark hair and pale skin was fascinating, his crooked smile was joyous and inviting, and his eyes -- his eyes captured her with the depth of emotion he could convey with the slightest flicker. Her eyes flicked down his body, an ample portion of his chest peeking through the off-white shirt he had pulled on to sleep. She had been so startled when he appeared at the door the previous evening, wearing something so unlike his usual black, loosely hanging off him. For the first time, he looked  _ relaxed _ . Casual, even. She was reminded of her flustered response to seeing him shirtless so long ago through their bond. Her cheeks burned at the connection and the sudden desire to do more in that bed with him than merely sleep. But if he could see what was in her thoughts at that moment, he hadn’t acknowledged it.

It was probably for the best, she reflected as she brushed her fingers through his hair. The story he had shared with her last night strengthened another kind of intimacy that she craved, and she would not have traded it away, no matter the attraction between them.

It wasn’t long before Ben did respond to the gentle pull on his hair, and, after a few muted grumbles and a juvenile burrowing of his head into the pillow, he opened his eyes. She had been touching him, but he still seemed surprised to find her right there. It didn’t last long, however, and the surprise faded quickly into a sleepy contentment. “Hi,” he greeted her softly.

“Hi,” she replied just as softly. “We might have slept in.”

He stretched, rotating his head to look around. “We might have. Are we in a hurry?”

“Well, no. But it’s a new day.”

“Yes, it is. A new day,” he agreed, turning to face her.

As he focused his steady gaze on her, Rey felt that anxious knot returning to her stomach. It was a new day, and it wouldn’t be long until the dreaded and purposefully delayed discussion would be necessary. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it, and although Ben didn’t look as though he was about to start a difficult conversation, she didn’t want to take her chances at this moment. Uncomfortable, she practically leapt out of the bed.

His brow wrinkled in confusion, but she avoided his eyes. “Need to use the refresher,” she mumbled hurriedly. “You’ll probably want to before we go, too. The Falcon’s facilities aren’t as roomy, after all.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before hastening out of the room.

The warm water as she cleaned herself did nothing to calm her nerves, and she felt even more awkward once she emerged, dry and clothed. Ben had been conversing quietly with BB-8, and stood up straight as she entered the kitchen, struggling to fit her own change of clothes into her satchel.

“Rey,” he said, clearly concerned.

“Your turn,” she fumbled with the pack in her hands. In a moment, he was there, taking the satchel out of her hands and holding it open wider to make her task easier. Once the clothes were stuffed out of sight, he silently handed the satchel back to her. She finally looked up.

He knew the reason behind her awkward evasions. The understanding in his eyes was clear. He sighed and brushed his hand along her cheek. “Rey,” he began again.

“Thank you,” she interrupted. “I need to, to finish some things on the Falcon. Come on, BB,” she beckoned to BB-8 and escaped up the stairs, the ghost of his fingers lingering on her skin.

She knew how ridiculous her behavior was. She had hoped to delay the inevitable, but she also knew that she had already destroyed their brief moment of peace by being so obvious in her avoidance. Somehow, though, she couldn’t stop. The Falcon was as ready to fly as she was ever going to be, and it was only now as she sat in the cockpit that she realized they had no set destination. Ben likely had one in mind already, but Rey was desperate to keep him away from there. But it made no sense for her to sit there with nothing to show for it when he did join her on the ship.

Rey did the only thing she could think of to pass the time; she sent a transmission to Chewie, letting him know that she was finally leaving Tatooine, and he should expect her soon. And she would not be coming alone. Chewie would understand what she meant, even if she didn’t say Ben’s name directly. She hoped that the hours spent traveling would give him enough time to prepare.

Waiting for Ben to appear was nerve-wracking, to say the least. How many minutes had passed since she had abandoned him in the house? And any minute, he would come in and she wouldn’t be able to stop what he had to say. Her eyes glazed over as she stared off in the distance, drumming her fingers erratically against the console. Not even BB-8 was enough to distract her.

She felt his presence, though, before she even heard his footsteps in the corridor, and she finally stopped the incessant tapping of her fingers, trying to appear cool and collected and afraid she was utterly failing. When Ben did come into view, she allowed herself only a brief glance to take him in before immediately turning away. She couldn’t meet his eyes; silently she begged all the powers in the galaxy to spare her a few moments more. He was too beautiful to give up, his hair wet and slicked back, another off-white shirt, this one tighter on his form, and the brown pants giving him yet another look for her to admire.

With a sigh, he sat in the co-pilot seat beside her, and leaning toward her, he settled his elbows on his knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him open and close his mouth several times, as though unsure of where to begin. She would not start, not for the life of her.

Finally he broke the silence, his voice quiet and careful. “I realized earlier that we talked about leaving, but we never actually said where we might go.”

She chanced another look his way. “I know,” she replied, attempting a casual tone. “I sent a message to Chewie; he’s been waiting on me to leave, and I told him he needed to prepare, but I haven’t received a transmission back from him yet.”

“Rey,” he said simply, his voice softening with compassion and pain.

“And I don’t feel right keeping the Falcon, it really should be his,” she jabbered on, still vainly hoping to put him off. “So maybe we could return the Falcon to him, get ourselves another ship.”

“And go where?”

“What do you mean?” she questioned innocently.

He wouldn’t be fooled by her feigned obtuseness. “This hypothetical ship, where would it go?”

“Anywhere we want,” she responded with a hint of iron in her voice.

“Rey,” he said again, his own voice hardening, not in anger, but in deliberation.

“What?” she felt her lips tremble against her will.

“You know we can’t do that.”

“I don’t know that.”  _ Make him stop. _

“Rey,” he repeated with finality.

Now she whirled to face him, grasping his hands in hers. “No. Ben, please,” she begged.

His eyes, so dark and intoxicating, were filled with sorrow but determination. “Don’t stop me this time, Rey, you know what I have to do. You know it. I have to turn myself in to the Resistance.”

There. He had said it. And the only way she could think of responding was to sound like an abject little child. “I don’t want you to.” Tears, her ever-constant companion, were threatening to appear once more, but she forced them back. If she could pretend strength, maybe he would back down.

“Neither do I,” he said, his eyes dropping to her hands, his thumb running over her knuckles.

“Then why would you throw away this second chance you have for a life?” she pleaded desperately.

His head whipped up, incredulity filling him. “A life?” His voice was exasperated. “Rey, were you listening to me last night? I told you that part of my choice in coming back was to make up for all the wrong I did!”

She ripped her hands out of his and stood. “You also said it was to be with me! You can hardly be with me if you turn yourself over!”

“It’s not that simple, Rey,” he answered, still seated. “I can’t just go and be with you.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Now he leapt to his feet, using his arms and hands to gesture about as he spoke. “Because what good does that do? How is that making amends, taking off and living, knowing everything I’ve done and doing nothing to repay? I’d be no better of a man than I was before, taking only what I want and giving nothing in return.”

“We’d be together!” she cried.

He cocked his head, his eyes boring into hers. “Do you really know what that means? What would that do to your life, Rey?”

If only she could lie to him, but she truly had no response. “I don’t know,” she admitted defeatedly.

His lips pursed for a moment. “I do. We’d go into hiding, we’d be on the run, always afraid of being caught. What kind of life is that for you? It’s not fair to you. You’d be isolated from your friends, from the family you’ve built. Every choice you make for the rest of your life would be affected by running away with me. You think you’d be happy, but it wouldn’t last. Our bond would become a curse, and you would eventually hate me for letting you give up your choices.”

“I would never hate you,” she vowed, shaking her head at him.

“But whatever this is between us would change. You can’t deny that.”

She didn’t want to admit the possibility that he could be right; it was too early for her to give up her side of this argument. “I won’t listen to hypothetical ranting; I know what I feel. And I won’t let you give yourself up only to be executed! What was the point of you coming back only to face death again? You know that could happen!”

“No,” he countered as his movements stilled.

She ignored the change in his body. “What do you think that would do to me? Watching you die again? How is  _ that _ fair?” she raged on.

He stepped forward and took one of her hands in his again. “Rey, if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I wasn’t sent back just to die again. They won’t kill me.”

The surety in his voice did nothing to soothe her, and she wrenched her hand away. “They’ll imprison you at the very least. Where are your noble goals of making amends there? How are you supposed to do good for the galaxy behind bars?”

Now his anger began to build, fueled by frustration at her refusal to understand him. “It’s at least acknowledging my crimes and paying the price I’ve incurred. It’s doing what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done?” she scoffed. “Listen to yourself, Ben! What needs to be done is to take advantage of this gift, that we can be together!”

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging the drying strands into disarray around his face. “Rey, why is it so important to you that we run off together? You hardly know me!”

Stung by such a question, her anger rose to meet his. Was their bond suddenly nothing to him? “Oh, and I can get to know you while you rot away in a prison cell? That’s the way to know someone?”

“It’s a damn better chance for us than it would be if we simply ran off, thinking some romantic fantasy is enough to sustain what this is between us,” his voice had risen nearly to a yell. “We can’t deny what’s real just because of this connection.”

“Our connection is real,” she reminded him furiously.

“Yes,” he agreed violently, the hardness in him completely at odds with the admission. But he seemed to realize the disparity, and another sigh escaped him as he shook his head to collect himself.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower, but no less potent. “But so is the rest of the galaxy,” he began, his eyes meeting hers again, imploring her to understand why this was so important. “And you’re not the only one who would suffer if we ignored everybody else and thought only of ourselves. Knowing I had a chance to make things better and did nothing? That would eat away at me; I would be proving myself undeserving of this gift of life I was given. And I would try to push you away, but our bond would make it impossible, and I would hate it. And we would change. Not for the better. Because we would have based our decision on selfishness and deliberate ignorance. Not on truth. Or balance. And isn’t that the crux of what we really are together -- balance?” He closed the distance between them and drew her hands into his once more. She did not fight him.

“Rey,” he pleaded, “how am I supposed to learn and maintain balance in the Force if I don’t try to do better than I did before? How can I possibly deserve  _ you _ if I just revert to the man I was? You couldn’t be with that man; you rejected his hand, and you were right.”

The tremble in her lips gave way and the tears spilled down like rain on her cheeks. He was right; he knew it, and she knew it. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. “I just got you back.”

He shook his head vehemently and cupped a hand behind her neck. “You won’t lose me,” he assured her in a fierce murmur. “I promise. Whatever they do to me, you will still have me.”

“But we’ve only had one day,” she couldn’t resist lamenting. “I don’t want only one day. Do you?”

“This isn’t a question of what I want, only what I should do. Don’t you know what I truly want?” he questioned, a mixture of longing and irritation radiating from him.

She had a vague idea, of course; a Force bond like theirs did not make her ignorant of his feelings. But she deferred answering his question. She hoped to make him share clearly what he desired.

Of course he understood her silence. With his free hand, he lifted one of hers, pressing her palm against his chest above his heart. He bowed to touch his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, and she followed suit. Their breaths steadied and synchronized, and Rey felt energy flow into her as his thoughts and dreams became hers.

Like the memories she had seen that dwelled with the Lars homestead, only brief images appeared before her, but they were full of serenity and promise. She and Ben stood on a beach, watching the waves come in, surrounded by sand and green, their hands clasped together. Kisses stolen in corners, behind alleys, in shadow, but always with a smile. Sparring with lightsabers, her golden one meeting his, though what color his was changed too quickly to know what it could be in reality. Energy and yearning flowing through the both of them, somehow turning an exercise into a precursor of what might come. A soft bed, where their hands intertwined and lips met in fervor and lust, passion and love. Joining together in a way they could and would never share with any being but each other. Innumerable children dancing around them in a field as they laughed, and Rey knew which of them belonged to her and Ben. Lazy days and hard days passed in her vision, but in all of them they were together.

As the last images faded from view, she realized her tears had abated and Ben’s head no longer rested against hers. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her solemnly.

“That is what I want,” he assured her quietly. “But we can’t have that life if we run away. Not really.”

“So what do we do if we’re not together?” she asked, the joy and quiet peace from their shared vision vanishing in the harshness of the real world around them.

“Rey, no matter where I am, wherever you are, don’t forget everything we  _ can _ do. We can reach across the galaxy itself to be together. It’s not a total separation,” he kept his voice quiet, still holding her close.

“But it’s not the same.”

“No,” he concurred. “But it’s better than nothing, and it’s better than basing our future on the wrong things.”

“I hate this,” she declared, allowing herself the slightest pout.

“Hate is the path to the dark side,” he quipped automatically. Her eyes widened at him in consternation. “Sorry, bad timing,” he admitted with a wince. “I never knew how to tell a joke.”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “You’re right. And you knew I knew you were right. I hate that.”

“Me, too,” he was wise enough to admit without a poor attempt at humor. “I’m sorry.”

She had lost the argument, but wasn’t entirely ready to give up. “Sorry enough to grant me one request?”

“Anything,” he immediately replied. She lifted an eyebrow at him with a quirk to her lips. “Within reason,” he amended quickly.

The hint of a smirk she had briefly adopted now dissolved in her sincerity. “Let us have a little more time before we go back to the Resistance?”

“Rey,” he weakly protested.

“Not long,” she interrupted. “A week, maybe. Something so that we can get to know each other better without you being locked up. So that we have something to hold on to when things . . . are harder.” His lips were slightly pursed as he studied her intently, and she had to stop herself from reaching up to smooth the creases in his brow. “Please.”

After a long while, he nodded. “All right,” he conceded simply.

She nodded along with him before he pulled her against him, his arms enfolding her securely, his lips brushing along her forehead and hair. It wouldn’t be perfect going forward, of course, but for now it was enough.


	8. Journey to Kashyyyk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pseudo-family reunion time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters at once, so make sure you're reading things in order. :)

“You’re leaning too far forward,” Ben said. “And your back foot is out too wide.”

Rey turned from where she stood to glare at him, but he remained unperturbed from his position, arms folded and leaning back in his chair as he observed her. BB-8 rolled back and forth, beeping in supportive indignation, but this only served to reinforce Ben’s lazy grin. She deactivated her lightsaber, trying to ignore the fact that she had nearly taken out the old dejarik table in the passenger lounge of the Falcon.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, frustration simmering just beneath the surface of her insincere apology, “but who beat who on Starkiller Base?”

“Who was bleeding out from a mortal wound?” he countered, narrowing his eyes.

“And how did our fight on the Death Star end?”

“You do know I wasn’t actually out to hurt you that time?”

She gave pause for only a moment. “I’m just reminding you that I’ve fended for myself just fine with a saber before.”

“Hmm,” he pretended to consider as he stood. He slowly circled her, looking her up and down from head to toe. Her forehead was glistening with sweat and her breathing was starting to get heavy. And she was giving him a mighty glower. She knew perfectly well he was toying with her. She also had no idea how attractive she was in this state.

“So you’re saying that after just over a year of training, you have nothing else to learn or improve upon? You’re perfect just as you are?” he questioned with a smirk.

He felt the irritation flare within her at his smugness, but he was enjoying himself too much to stop teasing. “No, but -”

“And didn’t you ask for my help?” he cocked his head at the reminder.

“Yes,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the floor.

“But you only asked because you were sure I would tell you that you were doing everything right, and you had nothing to work on,” he concluded.

Her head shot up to meet him with fiery indignation. “You told me yesterday that I was magnificent!”

He drew closer to her, circling around to stand at her back. “I said your saber was magnificent,” he drawled neutrally, delightfully anticipating the swivel of her body toward him to protest even further.

She did exactly that, but he caught her by the shoulders before she could completely face him, and with a firm grip turned her body back to its original position. Before she could say another word, he took a step closer, his chest grazing her back. The contact immediately halted her actions, and he took advantage of her momentary docility to direct her movements. Guiding her arms with his hands and nudging her feet into place with his toes, he murmured into her ear, all teasing gone. “You _are_ magnificent, Rey. You know very well I think that.”

Rey stood erect, keeping her eyes facing forward and away from him, but she came dangerously close to trembling at his nearness, not to mention his warm breath tickling her skin. Her earlier frustration was swiftly replaced by a quiet excitement, and her shallow breaths came in faster as the seconds ticked by, not from exertion, but from the crushing and delicious tension that surged between their bodies. Ben’s hands drifted to her waist, the air thick and expectant. She had a fleeting suspicion that the saber critique was over, and she closed her eyes, hoping he would take the initiative to break the silence in a more suggestive way. She felt his hands tighten on her, as if in preparation to twist her around again.

_Beep! Beep!_

Trust the Falcon to ruin the moment, Rey bemoaned silently. Ben removed his hands and stepped back, allowing both of them to breathe fully once more. But even as she moved away, she wanted that tantalizing pressure back, just to see where it would have led. It took great effort not to childishly stomp back to the cockpit.

Ben knew he should follow her, but he first slumped back into the chair, desperately needing to catch his breath. He had initiated the contact, but hadn’t realized how quickly and powerfully they would both be affected by their proximity. Not to say he minded the feeling, but his control around Rey was already collapsing. What havoc would be wreaked in a week if he was carried away by his feelings so rapidly?

He threw a dirty look at BB-8, who tilted its domed head at him like a confused pet. “Some chaperone you’re turning out to be,” he muttered.

Already he felt the war within his mind, his resolve to do what was right being challenged by his desire to remain at Rey’s side. From the very beginning of their association, this had been his problem, Rey managing to upend every plan and goal he made. The difference was that his plans _then_ had been the epitome of wrong, whereas the possibility of Rey was unequivocally right.

And now she was still right. The Force practically rang through him when he was near her. Together they were far more than he could have been alone. His salvation and strength. To be separated from her would leave him hollow and broken; he could only imagine what she had felt during those lonely months, without their bond stretching between them. She was his destiny. He knew this beyond the shadow of a doubt. And yet . . .

Choosing between right and wrong was straightforward, or so he had heard. But what about grappling with two things that were right, one easy and one that grew more difficult with every passing moment? This was why it had been imperative that he told her of his decision to turn himself in as quickly as possible. The more time he spent with her, the closer they became, the more his resolve would be tested and his courage fail. If he had waited, his assertions would have sounded feeble even to his ears, no matter how just they actually were. Would he still have the strength to do what was necessary after a week with her? He was almost afraid of what might happen in the meantime, what other temptations might come up to persuade him to another path.

With a sigh, he stood and made his way to the cockpit. The warning beep from the Falcon likely meant that they were nearing Kashyyyk, and it wouldn’t do him any good to continue brooding. After several hours of trying to distract himself on the ship, Rey’s request for him to observe her saber form a welcome one, it was time to begin steeling himself for his first real confrontation: Chewie.

Despite Rey’s assurances that Chewie would have no lethal intentions, Ben couldn’t help remembering the raging sting of his honorary uncle’s bowcaster bolt in his side. Though that physical pain was long gone, a hiss escaped him at the memory of that terrible day. He hoped that the mechanical noises from the cockpit would mask it, but Rey threw him a sharp look as he sat down beside her. She had heard him, and it seemed she hadn’t entirely forgiven him for his commentary earlier.

“We’re getting close?” he inquired, his voice gruff.

She nodded. “About to drop out of hyperspace.” She took another look at him, and must have sensed his discomfort, because her face softened in compassion. She reached across quickly to squeeze his hand. “It’ll be all right, Ben. I promise.”

He gave her the smallest scowl, but full to the brim with skepticism. Chewie’s response to Rey’s message had been nothing but succinct, giving only his coordinates and no hint of how he felt at the prospect of their reunion. “We can’t be absolutely sure of that. Don’t be surprised if we’re greeted with an arsenal of bowcasters as soon as we step outside of the ship.”

She shook her head. “Really. If you could have heard the way he spoke about you when we were traveling together the last few months, you wouldn’t feel that way. He was . . . he was happy to know you had remembered yourself, at the end.”

“Happy?” He lifted an eyebrow.

Rey eyed him sideways. “He was feeling a lot of things, Ben. What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” he replied dismally, watching the blue-white blur of space beyond them. He knew he was trying her patience with his attitude, but there was no telling what might happen once he was face-to-face with the formidable Wookiee.

Sooner than he was ready for it, they dropped out of hyperspace, and the deep blue and green of Kashyyyk was in their sights. He was no help at all to Rey as she navigated the ship within minutes through the planet’s atmosphere and touched down in a clearing among tall wroshyr trees. His stomach was roiling with nerves, his face steely and throat dry. He could see a crowd gathering in their view, a shifting mass of brown fur among the dense forest, but he registered no one Wookiee in particular. He felt Rey’s eyes on him, waiting for him to move, and for the briefest instant, he felt the insane urge to take over the controls and fly off immediately.

 _That’s not a very good idea, Ben._ Her voice was loud and clear in his head, and he finally met her eyes. She jerked her head to motion out the window. _Look, no bowcasters_. Even in his head, he could hear her sarcasm.

Ben tipped his head sideways at her with a glare. “A little sympathy would be nice, you know,” he observed moodily.

The drop of her chin combined with her lifted eyebrows showed she would give him no chance for retreat. “Go on,” she said softly, not unkindly.

After a long minute of hard staring, he rubbed at his mouth, bracing himself for who knew what might come, then stood quickly. Now that he was here, there was no point prolonging the apprehension. He turned his feet, squared his shoulders, and marched through the corridors, past the little orange-and-white droid, with more decision than he actually felt, Rey’s pattering steps following behind. Before he could press the control to lower the ramp, he felt her fingers knit themselves into his. Warmth flooded through him, and he looked at her one last time, feeling her support and tenacity bolster his frailty.

She was with him. He could face anything. The ramp was opened.

The first step was still incredibly difficult, because there stood Chewie at the end of the ramp, waiting. Dimly he saw that other Wookiees stood beside Chewie, but he kept his gaze focused, not daring to look away. Rey kept her hand in his as they walked down, which was not surprising, considering his death grip on it, but he had a feeling she would still hold on even if he relaxed. But how could he possibly relax? They reached the ground and stopped, and Ben remembered how miniscule he could feel next to this giant creature. His body was taut with anxiety, and he didn’t know if he should say anything. The silence was deafening.

The blow to his stomach knocked the breath out of him, and he doubled over in pain, releasing Rey’s hand. He heard her shout, but he was too winded from Chewie’s punch to know exactly what she said. He held up a hand to stop her, vaguely aware that Chewie hadn’t hit him with all the force he could have and fully aware that he deserved much more. He was on the brink of recovery when Chewie shoved him, and he fell back, hitting the ground with an audible thud.

He was barely given the chance to react to the ache shooting up his backside when he felt Chewie’s hands on him again, lifting him roughly to his feet. He tried to gasp out an apology, thinking it could only help, but his voice was smothered against Chewie’s chest. Realization was slow in the wake of the altercation, but eventually he felt the hairy arms engulfing him and a gentle pat on his hair, a memory of days long gone when he was just a little Pup. With a gut-wrenching sob, he wrapped his arms around Chewie’s middle in return, and they stood there for a long while, clutching each other in tears.

* * *

Rey had known for a long time that Chewie had a family back on Kashyyyk, but she was so used to associating Chewie with the Falcon, it was surreal to sit with his wife and son in his home. More surreal was seeing Chewie and Ben together, awkward but sincerely making an effort to renew any connection at all. She had hoped for the best, but until she saw the two of them sitting across from each other, the soft firelight dancing across their faces, she couldn’t have pictured such a moment.

To be sure, opening pleasantries (if such a word could be used) had been a shock, but Ben didn’t take any offense to Chewie’s brief violence against him. So she supposed she shouldn’t, either. The crowd of Wookiees that had gathered at their appearance dispersed, leaving only Chewie’s family to wait for Ben and Chewie to separate, and then lead them to their home in the tree village.

Mallatobuck, Chewie’s wife, was nearly as tall as he was, but her fur was longer and looked more silky. Rey had to restrain herself from touching it. She was friendly and courteous, making sure Rey and Ben were situated comfortably, and she made no unpleasant comments about Ben’s past, though she must have known about it. Lumpawaroo, their son, was taller than his father, but far more quiet than either of his parents. He made himself scarce once everyone was fed and watered, though not without kind howls and grumbles from his father. Clearly, even though Chewie spent so much time away from Kashyyyk, the ties among his family were incredibly strong. Seeing them together tugged at Rey’s heart in a throbbing, pleasing way.

Although it was endearing, albeit difficult, to watch Ben and Chewie together, Ben throwing sidelong glances her way, Rey did not object to Mallatobuck’s suggestion that they be given some privacy. She followed Mallatobuck outside, the evening air still warm. Desert-bred Rey almost felt like she could swallow the air, so thick with moisture it was. And although Mallatobuck took her up on a platform nestled between the trees, the canopy above was far too dense to get a glimpse of any of the moons. But Rey felt safe hidden under the trees, and Mallatobuck spoke in soft growls and grunts of the history of the wroshyr trees and the magnificent cities built among them. 

Rey was feeling at ease listening to the lilt of Mallatobuck’s voice, smiling every time Chewie was mentioned, for his wife did not deign to call him anything other than Chewbacca. Soon, however, they were interrupted by a rustling among the trees, and Ben and Chewie appeared once more. Ben took his place at her side, and Chewie grunted quietly to Mallatobuck, who nodded her head and retired to their home once more.

“Rey,” Ben began, taking her hand, “Chewie and I were talking, and it’s not a good idea to stay here.”

Rey looked back and forth between them in confusion. She had assumed that she and Ben would be able to pass their time together on Kashyyyk, but the somber look in Chewie’s eyes let her know that Ben was speaking the truth.

“Why?”

Chewie howled a short response.

“High traffic?” she repeated. “But it’s not as though anybody could see us from space. We’re quite hidden here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“True,” Ben agreed, “but this planet is still too close to several lanes of transport. Chewie didn’t think we’d be safe here for an entire week. It might make the other villagers . . . wary,” he fished around uncomfortably for the word. “You saw how many were here to watch us arrive, and Chewie isn’t exactly anonymous. They know him, they know you, they would eventually know exactly who I am. There’s no guarantee the Republic or Resistance wouldn’t be contacted by someone who doesn’t want me here.”

“But Chewie, couldn’t you -?” Rey began to ask, but Chewie interrupted her with a louder growl. “I know you’re not the village chief, but you must have some pull with her?”

Chewie only shook his head. He wasn’t willing to ostracize his people, and Rey reluctantly realized she couldn’t blame him for that entirely. “So what do we do, then?” she asked glumly. She wasn’t terribly excited at the prospect of being kicked out so quickly.

“Chewie did have a suggestion,” Ben ventured carefully.

Chewie replied with a low howl, and Rey’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Lando?”


	9. A Place to Call . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben find a temporary respite. More temporary than they know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters at once, so make sure you're reading things in order. :)

All told, Ben’s reunion with Lando was a much smoother affair than the ordeal with Chewie. Rey could feel the bundle of nerves winding him up as they approached the planet surface, and he stood just as rigidly before his father’s old friend as he had on Kashyyyk, but there was no startling punch to his body in greeting. Instead, Lando had simply rested his hands on Ben’s shoulders, staring up at him in studious silence for many tense moments.

Finally Lando nodded, making some internal decision, and said, “So it is my little starfighter,” and pulled him in for his own bruising embrace.

Once they had separated, Lando’s next words were a hearty greeting to Chewie, who had pledged to stay with Ben and Rey until they went to the Resistance. Lando also extended a hand to Rey, who took it with gratitude but some shyness, as well. He was, after all, one of the last legends left of the Rebellion, and her experience with him had been limited. His perpetual smile and easy charm weren’t quite enough to immediately set her at her ease.

His four reserved associates that had accompanied him to meet the ship didn’t help matters, either. Two humans, a man and a woman; a female Zabrak; and a male Sullustan. Lando took the time to introduce them all, but Rey forgot their names almost as soon as they were said. The expressions on their faces were not encouraging. At least they stayed behind with Chewie and BB-8 at the Falcon as Lando took it upon himself to show Ben and Rey what kind of planet they had landed on.

There was evidence that this area had once been green and filled with life, and where they had landed the Falcon had some promising views, but the valley they descended into was charcoal-gray and rocky. It had formerly been some sort of quarry or mine, and she could see small buildings dotting the valley floor. As they walked toward this abandoned mining settlement, Rey was drawn into the conversation as Lando explained his activities of the last few months, seeking out deserted hamlets in the galaxy.

“You might not know this,” Lando said, directing his words to Rey while setting a leisurely pace, “but I took an interest in your stormtrooper friend’s pursuits.”

“Finn?” she asked, afraid to look Ben’s way. For all their talk, she had mentioned her friends very little to him. It had just been easier to avoid the subject of people who might always hate him. Even so, she could feel his strain through the bond.

“Yeah, him, and the girl. Jannah, or TZ-1719, as she used to be called. Remarkable girl,” Lando mused with a shake of his head. “Both of them, really. They’ve got noble intentions with what they’re hoping to do.”

“Finn sounded frustrated with the lack of progress in his last message,” Rey said.

“Yeah,” Lando replied with a touch of regret, “but that’s the way it is when you deal with the fall-out of a war. The generals have to deal with more battles, finding and getting rid of the hold-outs, decisions about prisoners, dismantling tech, not to mention the task of rebuilding the Republic, as well as realigning the Resistance with regular Republic defenses. It’s a lot, and poor Finn hasn’t had much of a chance to really get started.”

“He told me they were able to liberate one ‘academy’, at least.”

Lando nodded. “He was pretty passionate about that one, considering it was where he came from. But he and Jannah know there are more, and it’s going to take some time searching them all out. And then there’s the task of reunification. That’s a lot of families to find. They’re hoping that eventually some First Order prisoners will give some information worth telling, but so far intel has been minimal.”

As if by pure instinct, both Lando and Rey looked Ben’s way, but he took some time noticing, as his gaze was resolutely focused on the ground. The feel of their collective gazes penetrated his reverie, though, and he raised his head quickly, his eyes remorseful.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be with that,” he confessed. “The stormtrooper program, Project Resurrection, all that, was Hux’s pet project, as it was his father’s before him.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “I benefited from it, obviously, but I wasn’t involved in its operation. Hux and I had different goals and assignments in the Order, and he wouldn’t have shared any details with me, anyway. We didn’t exactly see eye to eye.” The sarcastic roll of his eyes at this last statement made it clear he was minimizing the animosity between himself and Hux. “The best I can offer is suggestions, not real intelligence.”

Lando clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “They’ll take whatever they can get, I’m sure.”

“Even from me?” Ben retorted.

_ Ben _ , Rey scolded silently. He was instantly contrite.

“Sorry.”  _ I’m trying, really _ .

Lando’s eyes narrowed at the pair of them, but said nothing about the exchange he knew he was excluded from.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I hesitate to admit this, but you might notice I’m not as young and spry as I once was.” He winked, his flirtatious personality still as young as ever; Rey allowed herself a smile. “I can’t do much to help in a fight any more. Exegol took more out of me than even I thought it would.”

A sharp stab of pain originating from Ben shuddered through Rey, forcing her to stifle a gasp. Exegol was yet another name that had been avoided with Ben until this moment, and she felt plainly how hard it was for him to hear it spoken of. But Lando appeared not to notice and went on.

“But even if I can’t fly as well as I used to, I’ve got contacts all over the galaxy, some less savory than others,” he leaned toward Rey conspiratorially, “and I figured I could help Finn and Jannah out. Gathering information, but also doing this.” He stopped at a circle of small, unremarkable huts and flourished an arm grandly.

“Some of the places I’ve found will be temporary waystations for the children they free from those so-called academies, until families can be discovered or permanent homes can be settled. But a place like this, I was thinking could be an establishment for people like Finn and Jannah.” At Rey’s questioning look, he clarified. “Ex-troopers. Those who actually served.”

Now Ben’s interest was piqued, and he turned about to more closely inspect the surroundings. Rey did the same as Lando spoke. It was unclear how long the colony had been empty, but it must have been a long time since any inhabitants were here at all. The gray slabs that made up most of the ground were overtaken by light green shoots between their cracks, the derelict huts were missing pieces of roof and walls, and a distant forest was beginning to take shape that clearly would not have been allowed to grow had the industry continued.

“There are more stormtroopers than the Resistance will know what to do with once they’re all gathered up, if they can even find all of them. And some will probably stick with their programming, but there’s a good chance that many will be like Finn, hoping to get away from the stink of the First Order. The Republic can’t imprison all of them, especially knowing that it wasn’t their fault in the first place that they were effectively brain-washed into loyalty. So they’ll be free to go wherever they please, but it won’t be easy for them. As many good people as there are in the galaxy, there will still be many places they’ll be unwelcome.”

“They need a place they can have a fresh start,” Ben murmured absently. Rey’s heart swelled with sorrow for the longing in his voice; the parallels in his situation were impossible to miss.

“Exactly,” Lando agreed. “Even Finn, who left the First Order long ago and has become a leader in the Resistance, is still getting opposition from Republic politicians, who are ready to dismiss him because of his past. Imagine how much harder it will be for the others who never left it.”

Lando pointed up another path that led back out of the valley, lined at the ridge by young cone-bearing trees. “Up that way is the old boss’s home, the ‘Baron’ as he styled himself. It’s in much better shape than these houses, so we’ve been staying there the past couple days. That’s where we’ll set you up, as well.”

Chewie’s suggestion really was more wise than she had thought, Rey realized as they picked their way along the overgrown path. Lando’s self-appointed assignment kept him constantly on the move, in isolated places, surrounded by few people, with no way to predict how long he might be on one planet. Assessing environments and possibilities would be different in each place, so there was an erratic pattern to his arrivals and departures. This was probably the best situation for Ben, with the added benefit of having a second chance with the closest remaining family he had.

But although he was far more at peace than he had ever been as Kylo Ren, there was an underlying current of doubtful caution she felt from him that had taken root their lone night in Kashyyyk. And as relieved as he was at the surprisingly positive acceptance from both Chewie and Lando, that discomfort was slowly increasing. Rey reached for his hand, and instantly felt how her touch soothed his troubled heart. He gave her half a smile as they cleared the ridge and the ground leveled below their feet.

“And here we are,” Lando said, the large house looming up before them. Rey looked up at it in surprise; its grandeur seemed completely incongruous with its surroundings. A white and gray marbled facade of the two-story structure gave it the appearance of a small palace, and even before they entered, she could tell the ceilings of the ground level were impossibly high. Tall columns were spaced across the front, supporting a balcony that looked as though it wrapped around the entire circumference of the house. She counted seven glass doors on the second floor that opened onto the balcony, and wondered why in the world someone would need that many rooms in a single dwelling.

“How?” she breathed in perplexed wonder. “Why is this so . . .” she trailed off.

“Different?” Lando supplied. She nodded mutely. “Greed, mostly.” She tore her eyes away from the house to look at Lando. “The boss let his position go to his head, and the little supervision over him made for a pretty hostile environment, from what I understand. He took advantage of the remoteness of the planet and lack of oversight, and turned the workers into little more than slaves. Terrible conditions for them, but fat profits for himself. He built this place, set his family up in it, and established his own little kingdom.”

“What happened?” Ben asked, his eyes hooded and serious.

“What else could happen?” Lando shrugged. “His monument to his ego couldn’t last; the workers revolted. His family managed to escape, but the Baron didn’t survive. The company hushed it all up for the sake of their business, and the place was abandoned.”

“Should I even ask how  _ you _ found out about it?”

Lando chuckled mirthlessly. “Contacts, Ben. Less than savoury contacts.”

They had stopped just in front of the open doors, and Rey could hear Chewie inside, Lando’s associates not feeling the need to take a detour as Lando had. She grimaced at the thought of all that had gone into this wasted space, all because of one cruel man. Why did that have to be the never-ending historical cycle of the worlds -- one corrupt person who sought for absolute power, causing the suffering of countless others? All hope extinguished and nothing but ruin in their wake. A reminder of who had nearly destroyed her life and the life of every being in the universe. That demonic creature who had been her family, her blood. 

She felt the bile rise in her throat, but was quickly recalled to her surroundings by a gentle tug on her hand. She looked up to see Ben’s eyes fixed on her, brimming with understanding, and then his determined knowledge spread through her, reminding her that she was far more than mere blood. Apparently it was his turn to offer her some comfort for her inner turmoil. She squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“But,” Lando continued, stepping across the threshold, beckoning to them to follow, “maybe some good can come of this place, after all. It’s a little ostentatious, of course, but it would be a good place to convalesce, to give those most affected a clinic of sorts to recover. A few of the rooms upstairs are suites, so med staff can be close at hand. It’s big enough for a good-sized crowd, that’s for sure.

“Harad!” he called out to the Zabrak who was waiting at the other end of the foyer. Rey tried to suppress a shiver of dread at her approach, reminding herself that the fierce teeth and fierce reputation of her species did not mean she had any ill intent.

“Will you please show our guests where they’ll be staying?” Lando asked, placing his hand on Harad’s tall shoulder. She nodded curtly, and with a jerk of her head, stalked away to the staircase. Rey glanced at Ben, glad to see his expression of trepidation matched her own. They had to ignore Lando’s amused chuckles at their expense as they followed.

* * *

Rey had little experience with comfortable beds, let alone enormous bedchambers, but as she snuggled into Ben’s side, basking in the feel of the plush mattress below, she imagined that she could get very used to such luxury. It was especially welcome, considering the extra time they had spent on the Falcon just to get here. Now maybe she could actually enjoy some time with Ben, after having to waste one of her negotiated days on unexpected travel.

They had been given adjoining rooms, so she had a bed of her own. But after sharing a bed due to necessity on both Tatooine and Kashyyyk, she was already used to sleeping beside him. It was both strange and wonderful to already be so dependent on him, when she had spent all of her life dependent only on herself. She supposed she would still get along adequately on her own, but there was something special about lying alongside his mountain of a body. She was dwarfed by him, but instead of feeling stifled, she was safe.

“Rey?” he muttered.

“Hmmm?” she responded sleepily. She was more than ready for rest.

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Am I keeping you awake?”

“Yes,” she teased. His laugh shook both their bodies, and she closed her eyes in contentment.

“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath, and went on. “Rey, I don’t want you to be afraid of mentioning your friends around me.”

Her eyes flew open.

“I know what you’re trying to do, not bringing them up. But . . .” he sighed. “They’re a part of you, and if you want to talk about them, you should.”

“Are you sure?” she tightened her hold around his waist.

“No,” he admitted. “You know it’s not an ideal situation. But I’d rather you talk about them than keep silent around me.”

She nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

He shrugged as best he could. “It’s only right.” He kissed her brow. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, Ben.”

* * *

The shadows were thrown into relief by a shaft of moonlight flowing in through the glass doors. Deep, sonorous breaths were the only sound when the handle of the door gradually turned. The ornate door creaked too loud for his liking, and he forced himself to slow his movements, willing the door to be silent as he pushed it open. For a breathless, overwrought moment, he had to halt in the opening, desperate to proceed but obligated to be sure that his quarry had not been disturbed.

Silence. Not a stir from the bed. Good. Daring and hatred surged through him, spurring him on to enter the bedchamber, stealth requiring his steps to be agonizingly slow. The resentment bubbled high; what right did this monster have to rest after everything he had done? His knuckles paled as his fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger. One step closer, and then another.

The formless lump on the bed came into sharper focus, and horror stopped him in his tracks. The girl. She was here, too. For a brief moment, there was indecision battling his anger. But only for a moment. She didn’t deserve any compassion. After all, how could she betray everything she had fought for by joining  _ him _ ? It was unpardonable, the hero and the villain, there together. She would simply have to pay the price of his life. There was no other mercy she had earned.

Finally, he was there, at the bedside, looking down on the sleeping beast. Now was the time; he would have to ask forgiveness later. He raised the dagger, secure in his righteousness at felling Kylo Ren, once and for all.

The monster’s eyes opened.


	10. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben deals with an intruder. Then must be dealt with.

Ben had felt the suspicion growing within him from the moment they touched down on the mining planet. At first he attributed his discomfort to the stress of seeing Lando once more, just as he had been afraid to approach Chewie. But it became clear there was more to his sense of foreboding once Lando had wrapped his arms around him. No, this was something else.

The hostility of Lando’s companions was the obvious culprit. At the very least, they could not have been happy at his presence, but were not permitted to challenge Lando’s authority over them. Rey had also noticed their unhappy faces, but, thanks to her cursed optimism, didn’t allow their first impression to hang over her. But Ben felt it all the greater as the day progressed. Lando’s company and conversation helped distract some of his attention away from the restlessness brewing among the company. Ben couldn’t ignore them completely, however, and with all of them oozing rancor, it was difficult to tell if one of them was a greater threat than the others.

Ben did his best to shield his suspicions from Rey, and though he knew she could sense his disquiet, he deliberately masked the worst of his thoughts. After all, there was always the possibility that the others’ animosity would escalate no further than the dark looks and whispered mutterings. When she entered his room that night, ready for sleep, she was hardly aware of the underlying panic he felt, and he was grateful he had been successful in staving off worry from her. And, as ever, her very presence set a blanket of calm on his nerves, so he had an easy time of pretending more serenity than he felt.

And he tried to follow her example as she drifted off to sleep. He mimicked the slow rise and fall of her breast, trying to keep his own breathing measured. He cleared his mind as best he could, meditation techniques attempted and discarded. He wanted to embrace the fatigue his body felt. It almost worked.

But then the handle turned. His eyes shot open. He didn’t move, didn’t turn his head or body to face the door. Whoever the intruder was, they would most likely turn away once they saw he was not alone. Rey was an effective guard in that sense. He waited, his body stiffening in anticipation and tethered aggression. His hands itched, but he had no weapon to call. The nearly inaudible steps came closer. Closer. Hatred poured from their presence, and Ben felt it seep into his skin.

Unbidden, the memory of Luke standing over him, saber drawn and lit, swam before his eyes, and he shut them tight, fighting against the image. He had learned that night hadn’t been all he imagined it to be, but that didn’t change the fear, the anger, and the instinct to beat his attacker back that had consumed him in that moment. It was no different now. The cacophony clanged in his mind, one voice telling him to remain still and only defend if necessary, and another urging him to go on the offensive and unleash every feeling pouring into him. He clenched his jaw. The intruder was near, and his back was an open target. But he would not die here.

Slowly, menacingly, he opened his eyes and turned. The bright moonlight revealed the barely controlled rage on his face, and the man above him stumbled back a step at the onslaught of power being released. Ben took the advantage, sitting up and raising his hand in one sharp, swift motion, the bed jostling beneath him. The offending dagger flew out of the man’s hands, clattering loudly across the floor, and now Ben recognized his assailant. Sulidan, the human who had directed the most ugly looks his way today. Ben shouldn’t be surprised. In fact, he wasn’t, only grimly satisfied at seeing the terror on his enemy’s face, his eyes darting back and forth from his hand to where the dagger fell.

“Do you want that back?” Ben hissed, the familiar anger, his long-time companion, tightening its hold on him. He felt himself on the verge of embracing it, but managed to push it back. With a flick of his wrist, the dagger rose again from the floor, floating until it hung in the air in front of Sulidan, the deadly tip pointed at him. “It would be a shame to lose it,” he taunted. “Looks expensive.” He lowered his hand and the dagger dropped again at the man’s feet.

“Pick it up,” he ordered, his deadly focus blinding him to anything else, even Rey lying beside him. Sulidan bent fearfully, his fingers trembling, and grabbed the dagger. Ben pointed at the door with threatening in his voice. “Get. Out.”

Sulidan seemed ready to obey when Rey sat up with a jolt and a gasp. Ben realized belatedly that she must have stirred long before now, but he didn’t look her way. Not yet.

And that was when Sulidan’s hesitation became his worst mistake. He glanced at Rey, still terrified but with enough lingering hatred that for a moment, his grip tightened again on his weapon. Ben saw his mind without even trying. An insane, desperate thought of carrying out his deadly mission, even if it meant killing both of them. It only passed through Sulidan’s mind in a flash, but it was enough. Ben instantly saw red.

Simmering anger boiled over, and he flew to his feet. Rey cried out, but he ignored her. The very thought of this man hurting her was too much. He couldn’t be allowed to escape. Sulidan tried to flee, dropping the dagger of his own accord this time, but he didn’t get more than two steps before Ben had closed the distance, and struck at him with all his might. He didn’t even need the Force to hurt him; his arms did the work, hurling Sulidan into the wall.

“Ben!” Rey’s voice was dim in his roaring ears. She scrambled out of the bed, but he still didn’t look her way. He lifted his hand again, and as he did, Sulidan rose into the air. He held him in place, his toes barely touching the floor. The sight of the man’s terrified expression, unable to shift a single muscle, fed his angry pleasure. All he had to do now was squeeze.

“Ben!” Rey’s voice was closer now, stern and scared. He faltered the slightest bit, and finally felt her hands pulling and straining on his raised arm. A blade of horror pierced through his fury, and he staggered. His body and breath began to shake uncontrollably as he met her eyes, faintly registering Sulidan collapsing in a heap on the floor. Both her hands now took firm hold of his arms, and his volatile breaths steadied as his vision cleared. She was there. She was all right. She held his gaze with lowered lids, willing him to focus, reminding him to breathe.

More footsteps echoed through the hall, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the crowd gathering in the open doorway. Exclamations and demanding questions volleyed through the room. But he and Rey would not be torn from each other; she looked only at him until she was sure he regained his control.

Finally, the burning inside him dissipated, and the full impact of what he had done broke over him. Rey felt the change before she even saw his tears, and she drew him into her forcefully, letting his sobs rattle through the both of them.

It had been his first test. He had failed.

* * *

Lando entered the kitchen with an uncharacteristically grim look on his face. Rey, Chewie, and Ben sat at the preparation table, having not spoken a word to each other since Sulidan had been carried out of Ben’s room. Rey held Ben’s hand, resting on the table, but it was clear he only tolerated her touch, as his fingers made no move to curl around hers. His other hand covered his face, his fingers splayed through his hair.

But at Lando’s entrance, Ben finally dragged his hand away, revealing the dull misery in his eyes. “Is he all right?” he asked, his voice ragged and hollow.

“He’ll be fine. Just a bit bruised,” Lando replied.

“Lando.” Ben wanted the truth, not just what Lando wanted to tell him.

Lando persisted. “Really. He’s banged up, but nothing worse than a sore back and a dented ego.”

Rey breathed a sigh of relief. There was no telling the depths Ben would fall into if he had permanently hurt him. He was already mired in regret and self-flagellation. She squeezed his hand bracingly, but he did not reciprocate. He still hadn’t looked anyone directly in the eye since it had happened.

“This was a mistake,” he muttered, almost too quiet to be heard.

“Look, this is my fault,” Lando argued. “I knew Sulidan was a hot-head; I should have sent him off-planet before you guys came.”

“We shouldn’t have come at all,” Ben continued to himself, his voice still low and dejected. “ _ I _ shouldn’t have come. It was a mistake.”

“Ben, don’t say -” Rey pleaded, but he yanked his hand away, jumping up and stalking about the room.

“Don’t say what, Rey?” he shouted. “That I almost killed a man? Again? That it will be like this every place I go, where anybody has the barest idea of who I am?”

Tears pooled in Rey’s eyes at his ferocity. In her honest moments, she recognized her own fear at what had happened. Maybe it was naive, but she believed that somehow the darkness could never touch Ben again. And to see it envelop him so fully, to get a glimpse of Kylo Ren once more . . . it frightened her more than she could express. But she wouldn’t say so to Ben. To admit it out loud could make him turn away, and she could lose him before she was ready.

Lando spoke up before she could reply. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. Anybody would need to defend themselves when confronted by someone out to murder them.”

“What I did went beyond defending myself, and you know it, Lando,” Ben spat. Lando met his eyes coolly.

Chewie howled at them both, and Ben turned to him, his face hard.

“I don’t care if I didn’t actually kill him; it was too close. Rey saw it, she’ll tell you,” he flung his arm out to point toward her, but she still said nothing. He huffed at her silence, and stomped toward the door, but stopped short of actually opening it. “It should have been Rey who fought him. She wouldn’t have made the same mistake.”

His words stung, but not for the reason he probably thought. Ben underestimated her own temper. She had seen Sulidan’s mind in that brief moment, as well. She knew that Ben’s enraged reaction was spurred on by the threat to her. But she was just as capable of losing control as he was, to give in to anger to protect someone she cared for. Hadn’t she fought Luke on Ahch-To when she discovered what he had done to Ben? Since his return, though, Ben seemed blind to this part of her. As Kylo, he had been eager for her to embrace it, but as Ben, he wilfully ignored it. Now was not the time to discuss it, though. Now was a time to convince him not to give up.

Ben turned around decisively. “I can’t stay here. I should have gone straight to the Resistance. Delaying the inevitable will only cause more suffering. I need to go as soon as I can.”

Rey opened her mouth to protest, but Lando beat her to it again. “No. No, you’re not going to do that. Not yet,” he said steadily, his face still cool and calm, even when Ben whirled to face him.

“What?” he growled.

“You’re not leaving,” Lando said simply.

“And who’s going to stop me?” Ben asked.

“Me.”

Ben smirked, a bitter laugh close to emerging. Even Rey thought Lando’s assertion was boldly foolish. Lando knew what Ben could do. “How are you going to do that?”

“By reminding you that the only family you’ve got is right here in this room with you, and we’re not risking our lives and reputations for nothing. And if you run every time you make a mistake, that’s all this will be -- nothing.

“Go to the Resistance, Ben, but not before you’ve done what you need to do here,” Lando’s voice changed from cool to earnest. “Take responsibility and make amends for what happened tonight. Apologize to Sulidan; he owes you one, too. Do what you and Rey need to do. I don’t know much about all this, but she’s tied to this just as much as you, and you need more time to figure this out together. Stay here. And give us the courtesy of believing that we occasionally know what’s best for you, too,” he finished with a sardonic twist of his mouth.

Ben was held captive by Lando’s stare, his eyes a torrent of emotion. It was clear by the twitch in his jaw he still wanted to argue, but Lando wasn’t about to back down. Rey felt a glimmer of hope, grateful for Lando’s willingness to wield authority over Ben. She fought back the bubble of humor that stirred at the image of Ben, glaring like a sullen teenager at his parental figure. Instead, she sent her own silent message to him, hoping that he was now in a state of mind to listen.

_ Please, Ben. _

He twisted his head toward her slowly, the glare fading as he relaxed his dark brow. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, an obstruction put up to protect her from his mind. But she could hope he read the plea in her face. Finally, he nodded, his gaze turning to the floor. “All right.”

Rey sighed in relief, Chewie sat back in his chair, finally releasing his tension, and Lando clapped Ben soundly on the shoulder, his voice stronger and reassuring. “Good. That’s what we wanted to hear.”

A corner of Ben’s mouth deepened.

“Now,” Lando said, and Rey’s bubble of laughter rose slightly within her at the commanding tone, “it’s time to get back to sleep. You’re going to need all the rest you can get,” he directed his words to Ben. “I’m down a man, and I’m going to put you to work. I’m not falling behind just because a couple of hot-heads are on this planet with me.”

Ben lifted his eyes to Lando again, and Rey feared for a moment that Lando made too light of the situation. Ben could be soothed, but downplaying the seriousness of the incident might drive him back into his former determination. However, Lando must have known how far to push, because Ben just nodded again, and pushed his way out the door.

Rey hesitated, unsure if he would want her company, but at Chewie’s nod and Lando saying, “Go on,” she shot off her chair and out the door after him.

He hadn’t gone far, his long legs shortening their usual stride. His entire presence bespoke weariness, and Rey could only sympathize with everything that weighed him down. Ben didn’t protest at her walking alongside him, but he said nothing and made no move to take her hand as he did before. Their walk up the stairs was slow and somber.

They reached the door to his room, and it was now he broke the silence. “Maybe you should stay in your room tonight.” He kept his eyes on the floor.

Rey expected this, but it still smote at her breast painfully. She wished he would allow her to comfort him. “Are you sure? I don’t mind -”

“No,” he cut in, and he released a shaky breath. “I thought . . . I thought he would leave once he knew you were in the room with me. But he didn’t.” He shook his head, running his hand through his tangled hair. “I won’t put you in danger like that.”

“I don’t think it will happen -” she tried to argue.

“Please!” he said harshly, whipping his head up and directing his piercing stare at her. “Please,” he repeated softly.

He wanted her to be safe. No amount of protesting would change his mind on that. She nodded, and she saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly. Sorrow and longing bloomed in her chest, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and assure him he was not alone. But his remaining rigidity warned her away.

“Thank you,” she dared to say, and his brow creased in confusion. “For staying. For listening to Lando.”

Comprehension dawned, and he nodded shortly. “I don’t know why he wants me to stay; I put everything in jeopardy for him by being here.”

“He wants to help you,” she contended. “So do I.”

His eyes crinkled painfully as he looked at her. “Why?” he breathed, his voice lost and desperate.

She reached up a hand to cup his face, willing him to lean into her touch. He didn’t. “You know why,” she whispered.

Rey felt the movement of his body as he lifted his hand and lowered it, wanting to meet her caress and struggling against the instinct. His jaw clenched and eyes watered.  _ Say something, Ben. Anything. _

But his struggle won out, and a mask descended over his features. He backed toward his door, opened it, and disappeared from view with only a solitary glance at her. And she was left in the hallway, an empty sadness reinforcing the knowledge that already he was pulling away from her.


	11. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is unnecessarily stubborn, but Lando is the pushy uncle we all need.

Dawn had taken its sweet time to come, and Ben swung his legs over the side of the bed the instant the soft rays of sunlight poked through the glass. Lando was dreaming if he really thought it was possible for Ben to sleep the previous night. Although he lay down, there was little chance for rest. He had only hoped that the few hours left until morning would pass swiftly; they hadn’t. The image of Sulidan floating in the air, his own arm extended, his hand curled, ready to strike, would not leave him. And in the moments that it did, it was replaced by the memory of Rey’s stricken face as he closed the door on her. The entire night had been a torment.

He dressed quickly, unsure of what to do, but absolutely certain he couldn’t stay put any longer. As he opened the door, voices drifted down the hallway, and he followed their sound in curiosity. A pang of guilt ran through him when he passed Rey’s door, and he fervently hoped she had been able to sleep. She was right when she doubted that nothing more would happen that night, and he knew it when she said it, but how could he let her stay with him when doing so exposed her to danger and, worst of all, his succumbing to his darkest impulses.

Quietly he made his way toward the voices, stopping when he reached the open door to the room that housed all of them. He picked out Lando’s voice immediately, and surmised that the others were his companions. They were in the midst of an argument, trying to keep their voices low but not quite succeeding. He thought it best to remain in the hall out of sight.

“ . . . and if you have a problem with that, you can clear out right now,” Lando’s voice said firmly.

“Why? Why do you think he can be trusted?” Ben had a shrewd guess as to who the woman referred to.

“My reasons are my own,” Lando replied with the fatigue of one who had to repeat themselves over and over. “You’re not here to question my decisions, just to carry out my orders. And being an idiot last night was certainly not an order of mine.”

Another voice chimed in, the Sullustan from what Ben could make out, but he spoke in his own language, and Ben could only guess at what he said.

“I was thinking he was asleep!” another voice replied heatedly, and now Ben could tell it was Sulidan answering. “It was an . . . opportunity,” his voice trailed off. Ben’s lips lifted in a smirk, sure that Lando was giving Sulidan a withering glare. It was times like this that Ben was reminded of the easily forgettable fact that Lando, despite his amiable manner, was a formidable leader.

“An excuse for stupidity, is what it was,” Lando said. “You really thought you could catch a Jedi off his guard? You think he didn’t know every one of you could be gunning for him? Believe me, he knew what was going on. You should feel lucky you escaped relatively unscathed.”

“Only thanks to the girl,” Sulidan muttered. Ben felt his ire returning at the dismissive way Sulidan referred to Rey and nearly charged into the room at the slight.

“That  _ girl _ is the hero of the Resistance,” Lando reminded him hotly, “and it would do you  _ all _ good to remember it.” Ben felt a swell of pride at Lando’s correction. “She wouldn’t be here with him if she didn’t trust him, and after all she’s given to this cause, you might consider trusting her. So you’re going to tolerate him, if not for my sake or the sake of your own neck, for her.”

Lando’s words were spoken with an edge of finality, and Ben took advantage of the silence that followed. The occupants of the room were probably not in the best state to receive him, but Lando had told him what he needed to do, and overhearing this conversation was a clear indicator that he wouldn’t want to ignore Lando’s orders. He stepped into the room, and five heads whipped around at his entrance, the immediate tension in the air palpable.

He walked toward the bed Sulidan sat in, looking directly at his attacker the entire anxious course. Sulidan, to his credit, met his gaze just as intently, his demeanor a mingling of defiance and fear. Ben could imagine hands around him drifting to holsters, ready to take aim, but he didn’t lose his focus. He stopped next to the bed, towering over the man who he had been prepared to choke the life out of mere hours before. The room grew stuffy and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said tersely. Audible gasps escaped a couple of the others; he knew Lando wasn’t one of them. He began to search in his mind for something else to say, to expand upon his apology, but every reason, excuse, and explanation he thought of only seemed to undermine the simple fact of his regret. So he left the words alone, hanging heavy in the air.

Sulidan’s eyes had widened in surprise, but otherwise gave no immediate reaction. However, it was clear that the cogs and gears in his head were turning in overdrive, working out something to say in response. Ben forced himself to give the man’s mind some privacy, and only watched and waited.

Finally, releasing a puff of air, Sulidan said, “I’m sorry.”

Some of the tension drained from the air, but Ben didn’t move at first. He had the feeling there was probably more they could both say, but what good would that do at this moment? He didn’t even care if Sulidan was sincere. It was better to leave now before any other fireworks could explode. With a curt nod at Sulidan, he turned, casting a cursory glance at the other stunned faces in the room. It was almost laughable, having witnesses see them apologize for trying to kill each other. Another short nod, and he walked out, his stride long and hurried.

Lando wouldn’t let him escape that easily, though. Young and spry he might not be any more, but he followed Ben out of the room at a rapid pace, and before Ben got too far ahead, he called out, “Feel better?”

Ben halted immediately, turning slightly to allow Lando the view of his lifted eyebrow as he caught up to him. Maybe a little bit of the weight on his chest was lifted, but it was still a situation that twisted his stomach painfully, and Lando ought to know it. Judging by the twinkle in his eye, Lando seemed to be perfectly aware of Ben’s thoughts. Once more, his solid hand lifted to Ben’s shoulder, squeezing it a touch on the rough side, but still with more affection than anything else.

“Ready to get to work, then?”

* * *

Lando wasn’t kidding about putting Ben to work. Within an hour of hauling and tearing out rotting wood, even under the cool morning sun, he was sweating profusely. Lando had hinted with a laugh that Ben should have no trouble with lifting heavy objects, but Ben knew that putting physical effort into his work would be more effective in distracting his mind. Using the Force right now was too fraught with trouble.

He was carrying a load of rubble and debris out of a nearly roofless hut when Rey appeared on the path above him. It was hard to tell whether he was more pleased or chagrined to see her, but he supposed it would be impossible to avoid her. Not that he wanted to avoid her, he reminded himself. Or did he? If only his mind would settle one way or the other -- he both yearned for her and wanted her to stay away. Longed to pull her in close and keep her at arm’s length. Frustrated by his indecision, he dropped his armload onto the growing pile, and steeled himself for her approach.

When she emerged from the path, for a moment he felt like his decision was made. His breath caught at the sight of her, fresh and beautiful before him, a soft smile playing on her lips. He nearly stretched his hand out to her, to tug her into him and let her nestle in his arms. But then he got a closer look at her eyes, and while they were not unkind, they were cautious. A lump grew in his throat that would not be swallowed down, and he mentally shook himself out of the momentary trance. He couldn’t pretend nothing had changed.

She came to a stop on the other side of the pile of rock, wood, and rubbish. “Good morning,” she ventured carefully.

“Hello,” he replied with a nod.

Only the morning breeze made a sound whipping through the basin they stood in as Rey inspected his work.

“Lando told me you were down here,” she continued, her voice still quiet. But a wry grin split her face, and she joked, “Clearing out garbage seems to suit you.”

He could only imagine the state he was in, and her sudden cheer, forced it might be, was still probably justified. A corner of his mouth lifted. “Me and the junk. Yes, we make quite the pair.”

Her soft smile finally reached her eyes and she circled around to come closer to him. He swallowed, his body tensing in apprehension.

She was before him, her lashes lowered, making her appear meek and small. “I’ve been worried about you,” she murmured. She reached for his hand, but he backed up a step. He wouldn’t make her touch him.

“Were you?” he asked, avoiding the pain that flashed through her expression at his denial.

Her eyes were large with reproach as she lifted them to his face. “Of course I was.”

He winced. He just didn’t know how to proceed with her, and of course he would say the wrong thing. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Thank you for your concern.” Could he sound more like a droid at this moment?

“Were you able to sleep?” she asked, taking another step toward him.

“No,” he said shortly, and she stopped mid-step. He swallowed again. He wanted her at a distance, but he couldn’t just let her go with abrupt answers. “Were you?” he attempted to modulate his voice to be more gentle.

The bridge of her nose was creased as she regarded him, her eyes still laden with that pained expression. “No. Well, that is,” she tossed her head about, “not for most of the night. I must have drifted off eventually, but . . . it wasn’t for long.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s not your fault.” Her statement seemed loaded with multiple meanings.

He couldn’t stand still any longer. Already he missed the activity of the grunt work assigned him. He had to pass her on his way back to the hut, and the faintest brush of her shoulder against his arm was sweet agony.

“So you’re clearing out the huts?” she asked, attempting to continue the conversation, but not entering the enclosed space with him. “What exactly does that entail?”

He grunted as he bent to pick up some longer fragments of wood, more remnants of the collapsed roof. “Exactly what it sounds like,” he said, keeping his eyes averted from her as he exited the hut. He laid the wood down on the ground, a new pile begun. “Lando wants them usable as soon as possible, which will mean a lot of work putting them back in decent shape. But a lot of this material is done for,” he gestured to the rubbish before heading back inside. “The stuff the workers left behind is ruined. The wood will probably just be chopped up for firewood or something; it’s no good for making repairs.” He picked up another couple of planks, carrying them out and depositing them on the ground, and wiped his hands on his pants.

Maybe Rey thought it would be helpful as she attempted a light-hearted inflection and reached down to her hip. “Well, if you need something to cut wood, I can lend you this.”

Ben knew what she would toss to him before he saw her arm move to throw it, and his reflex was swift and immediate, halting her lightsaber hilt in mid-air between them. It was an action that required little effort, but he felt his body tremble at the very idea of holding it in his tainted hands.

“What are you doing?” Now, finally, she sounded angry.

“I don’t want it,” he said flatly, pushing it back to her, and her face was indignant as she caught it. “I’ve got other tools.”

She stalked toward him, her face visibly upset. “What, you won’t even touch it now?”

“You’ll notice I didn’t touch it on Tatooine, either,” he pointed out, and she reeled back.

“But . . .” she scrambled about for a coherent thought. “In the vision, you had a saber. Why would you not even hold mine?”

“Vision?” he repeated incredulously. But then he remembered. “Rey, that was no vision of the future; I was showing you what I wanted. They’re not the same thing.”

“If it’s something you want, why won’t you-”

“Wanting something doesn’t automatically mean you should have it,” he interrupted. “If we learned anything from last night, it’s that I shouldn’t be trusted with a weapon of my own.”

“So, what, you’re going to cut yourself off?” she shot back. “Deny all that you can do because of one mistake?”

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and replied in as measured a tone as he could manage. “I wish you wouldn’t call it that. It was more than a mistake.”

“But Lando said -”

“Lando says a lot of things. He wants to believe them, too, I’ll bet. Just like you. But we can’t go back to thinking all is well and fine just because neither Sulidan nor I died last night. That’s a naive way to think, Rey.”

Her head snapped about, and he might as well have called her a brainless dunce for the furious way her face contorted. Her mouth opened to form more words, but nothing came out. Instead, her eyes filled with moisture, and she set her jaw rigidly, turning away from him. The instant regret that washed over him told him to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She deserved so much more than him.

Without another word, Rey swiftly walked away and disappeared up the path. Fear kept his feet still, even as remorse ordered him to follow her. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily and palming his forehead. Whatever he was supposed to do, he was floundering. Wrapped up in his wretched misery, he didn’t notice Lando had come down the same path Rey had taken until he was practically at his side.

With a jerk and silent gasp, Ben dropped his hand when he realized he was once again not alone. He didn’t particularly enjoy the penetrating study Lando was making of him, and he was ready to make a snide comment to drive him away when Lando sighed and shook his head.

“And there I was thinking you’d be happy to see Rey,” Lando said ruefully.

Ben bristled. “Was there something you wanted?” He made to turn away, but Lando grabbed his arm and held him in place.

“Well, seeing as how you didn’t exactly have the heart-to-heart I was expecting you to have with Rey, I guess that just means it’s my turn for one.”

“I’m not really in the mood for that.”

“Well, just your luck, I am,” Lando replied, more jovially than the occasion called for. He steered Ben away from his work and toward a fallen log. With a pointed look, he directed Ben to sit, which Ben did reluctantly and with a temperamental huff. If anything, his behavior only deepened Lando’s humor, since he shook his head again with an amused smirk.

Lando sat beside him, releasing a sigh that revealed his age, and Ben immediately felt a little humbled. So many years this man had been a part of his life, a last piece left of his fractured family, and all he wanted to do was help him. And how was Ben repaying his efforts?

“So,” Lando began, “you and Rey?”

Ben’s head darted up, his eyes wide. He had not expected such an opening.

Before he could compose a response, Lando went on. “I gotta say, I had my suspicions. First, when I read Rey’s testimony of everything that happened on Exegol. I thought, ‘My little starfighter came back for  _ her. _ That has to mean something.’” He shrugged. “And then yesterday, watching you two together. That was something, too. And then she was in your room last night, pretty much confirmed it.”

He didn’t speak provokingly, but Ben felt provoked, anyway. “She didn’t . . . we haven’t . . . that’s not what it . . .” He felt like a tongue-tied child, trying to make excuses to a parent. Lando, for his part, simply watched him patiently, and when it was clear Ben wasn’t going to finish his half-begun sentences, lifted his brow with another knowing smile that drove Ben to distraction.

“It’s just interesting, you know. Unexpected. The last Jedi and the former Supreme Leader,” Lando mused thoughtfully.

Ben took a steadying breath, knowing that to rise would only make Lando laugh more than he already was. He looked at Lando with an annoyed expression, his eyes narrowed. “You really know how to try a guy’s patience, Lando.”

Lando smiled more broadly. “It’s my favorite thing to do to Solo men. I’ve spent years perfecting it.”

“You never used to torture me the way you did Dad.”

“You were a boy then,” Lando pointed out. “Now you’ve grown up. It’s time to initiate you.” Lando’s eyes drifted, memory drawing his gaze far away. “I had such a time tormenting Han. Like when I first met your mom,” he interrupted himself with a chuckle, “I knew I wanted to charm her. She was beautiful and brave, and she wouldn’t tolerate anything phony, and I admired her. Of  _ course  _ I wanted to impress her. But I can’t deny that part of the pleasure of flirting with her was driving your dad crazy by doing it at all. I made myself almost unbearable, I was so charming.”

“I’ll bet you were insufferable.”

Lando didn’t disagree. “Well, that was the kind of relationship we had, me and Han. We’d fight with each other, but . . . we’d fight  _ for _ each other, too.”

Ben nodded. His eyes grew misty. “I miss them,” he admitted hoarsely. Lando turned his head, regarding him intently. “I know, after everything that happened,” Ben hurried on, “everything I did, it sounds strange, but -”

“Hey, hey,” Lando interrupted softly. “It’s okay.” He threw his arm around Ben’s shoulders, awkward with the height difference, but Ben appreciated the gesture. “I miss them, too. When you go to the Resistance, if there’s a trial, anything, I’ll come. I’ll fight for you, too,” he said sincerely.

Ben shifted about uncomfortably. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Hey,” Lando admonished. “They’d fight for you, tooth and nail, if they were here.”

Ben pursed his lips bitterly. “You’re conveniently forgetting I’m the reason they’re not.  _ All _ of them.”

“Listen to me, Starfighter,” Lando’s grip tightened. “You can’t blame yourself for your mom. She made a choice to reach out to you. She knew what it could cost, but she chose it. She died saving you. There’s a big difference between that and you killing her. And you know the difference; remember, I read Rey’s report. You made the same choice, to save her.”

“I don’t know if the Republic leaders will look at it that way. And besides, even if that distinction is made with Mom, or even with Luke,” he paused, a tear choking his voice, “you can’t say the same thing about what I did to Dad. There’s no room for interpretation there.”

“No. There’s not.” Lando let silence linger for a moment, letting Ben swipe at the tears tracking down his cheeks. “But I’ll tell you something. Even if those higher-ups don’t believe it, your family knows who  _ you _ really are, Ben Solo. Your mother, your father, Luke -- they know that Kylo Ren isn’t Ben Solo. They all fought for you, and loved you. Your dad knew the difference.  _ Knows _ the difference.”

Ben gulped back the last of his tears, and nodded. What was his experience  _ There _ if not a reassurance of just what Lando was saying now?

“And that Rey of yours, she knows the difference, too,” Lando finished.

Ben’s mood immediately shifted, and the anxious instinct for movement overpowered him again. He stood and began to pace in agitation. He should have known Lando would circle back to Rey. “She’s not my Rey.”

He didn’t miss Lando’s smirk. “Then I have been completely mistaken in the way I’ve seen you two together. She’s yours, and you’re hers. You don’t have to be in tune with the Force to see how much you care about her.”

“It’s more than that,” Ben automatically responded, and then wished he hadn’t.

“Have you told her that?” Lando asked, a challenge in his voice. “Have you told her how you feel?”

Ben stopped his pacing, keeping his eyes on the ground. “She knows.”

“Not what I asked,” he heard Lando murmur to himself. Louder, he repeated slowly and distinctly, “Have you told her?”

Ben glared at Lando now. “She knows,” he repeated, also slowly so as not to be mistaken again.

Lando’s peal of laughter threw him off-balance.

“Oh, if there was any question that you are your father’s son, that would clear it up right quick,” Lando said mirthfully. Ben could only watch in confusion as Lando recovered from his bout of hilarity. “Ben, come back here, kid.” He beckoned Ben back to the log. “I want to tell you something.”

Ben settled himself tentatively, with no idea of which direction Lando was going to go now.

“You know, I was there the first time your mother told your father that she loved him?” Lando reflected. “It was . . . well, it was a bad situation. Not her saying ‘I love you’,” he backtracked quickly, “but the circumstances, where we were, it wasn’t good. In fact, they seemed just about the worst they could be, and I was to blame for part of that.”

Ben looked at him sharply, the regret sidetracking Lando from the point of his story. But Lando, after chewing the inside of his lip for a moment, went on. “Anyway, the point is, I was there when she said it. The first time. Do you know what your father said?”

Ben began to shake his head, but stopped himself before he had made any movement. How many times had he heard this exchange as a child? “‘I know.’”

Lando nodded with a breathy huff of a laugh. “Yeah. ‘I know.’ Now, don’t get me wrong. Leia knew exactly what he meant. They had a language of their own, you know? It wasn’t a response that upset her, and it was so perfectly Han. He could be really straight-forward about a lot of things, but the instant it was something sentimental, he could be more than a little gruff.”

Ben’s mouth quirked and he lifted a brow in agreement. Gruffness was a key trait of Han Solo’s personality, especially when up against the prospect of being sentimental. And not just about people; he got the same way about the Falcon.

“But I remember later, thinking,” Lando grew pensive, “what if he  _ had _ died then? What if we hadn’t been able to save him later?” Ben’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt. He’d have to log this away to ask for details another time. “Then Han never would have actually said it back to her. She knew, but  _ saying _ it makes it different. And, as much as I admired the man, I couldn’t help thinking he was a damned fool for not saying it then.”

Lando focused his attention back on Ben. “I don’t want you to make that mistake. For all you’re your father’s son, you’re still you, and Rey is Rey. The things you need are different than what your mom and dad needed.

“Think for a second. Your parents loved you, but sometimes, because of the way they were with each other, they would be that way with you. Take it for granted that you knew they loved you.” Ben couldn’t deny this, and he felt his heart thud painfully. “And you needed something different. Because you’re Ben. Not Han.

“You and Rey, you have your own secret Jedi language.” Ben began to protest, but Lando waved him off before he could really say anything. “Don’t contradict me, I saw enough yesterday to know you’d be lying to me now. You have something special there. But most of the time, it’s not enough to know a thing. You need to say it.”

One more time, Lando’s hand was on his shoulder. “You need to tell her, Ben.”

They locked eyes with each other, Lando’s full of purpose, Ben’s full of indecision. But something passed between them all the same, and Ben knew Lando was doing his best to steer him in the right direction. He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that Lando was probably right, but after the previous night, and the future ahead so uncertain, he still felt adrift. He didn’t know if he could do that to Rey. Yes, they both knew, but . . . at the same time, they didn’t. Could he take that plunge?

“And even if you’re not ready to say it,” Lando’s voice became more stern, “the least you could do is not treat her like some kind of leper.”

Ben started. “What?”

“I saw her coming up the path, Ben,” Lando said, disappointment clear in his eyes. “You shouldn’t treat her as though she did something wrong last night.”

“She  _ didn’t _ do anything wrong!” Ben cried. “Why would I treat her like she did?”

“Why, indeed?” Lando replied. “And yet you push her away like she’s to blame. Don’t go punishing her just because you’re punishing yourself.”

His hard stare was enough to make Ben begin to sweat again. “I . . .” he had no idea what he was going to say, and he faltered. Was that what he had done to her? Had his efforts to protect her from himself been wrong?

It didn’t take him long to arrive at a clear answer. The instinct to protect her might be right, but hurting her as he hurt himself was not the solution. They were bound to each other, and to try to cast her away wasn’t going to ever be the right thing. If only he had come to that conclusion half an hour before.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Lando smiled grimly.

“In this case, again, I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Now, you go and fix your mess before it gets too much later. The sun’s only going to get hotter, and you don’t want to be working out here when it’s mid-afternoon.”

Ben jumped up, but before he ran up the path, he stuck his hand out to Lando, who gripped it to stand and then held it solemnly for a moment. “Thank you, Lando,” he said fervently.

“Any time, little starfighter, any time. Just don’t let your sense of stupid martyrdom make it happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last week I watched "Return of the Jedi". It's been ages, and although I was originally going to just watch the stuff in Jabba's palace (mainly to remind myself of the difference in Luke's character when he shows up, which is a freaking awesome entrance -- I think I had totally forgotten that he, a JEDI, also uses Force choking, guys), I basically watched the whole movie. (Unfortunately, it was the version on Disney+, so I had to suffer through the stupid edit that added Darth Vader saying "No, no!" before tossing the Emperor down the shaft. Talk about unnecessary additions. . . . Yeah, I'm pretty much a purist when it comes to the OT. Not sorry.)
> 
> Anyway, while watching ROTJ and then the carbon-freezing scene in Empire Strikes Back, I was struck by Lando's character. His main legacy of the last 40 years is as a smooth-talking charmer and scoundrel like Han, and it's easy to forget that he was also a general in ROTJ, and even before that, he was still a leader. There was a reason for that. It was a nice reminder that there's more to this guy than amazing capes and winning smiles. So this ended up being a favorite chapter for me to write, even if there is very little Reylo interaction, and what little there is, is angst.
> 
> But I never want my angst to last long. Hence Lando being the hero of this chapter. He's awesome.


	12. A Peaceful Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Rey talk. Tranquility ensues for a bit.

A frustrated grunt accompanied the thud of the branch as it hit the ground. Rey grudgingly supposed she should be more careful, but the thought passed quickly as she swung around her saber again, frustration fueling her every step. Her brief encounter with Ben had cracked open her fear, a feeling that had been slowly growing since Ben had closed his door on her the night before, into an angry need for not only exertion, but even a little destruction.

Why would he treat her that way? she wondered bitterly as she stalked through the copse of young trees behind the big house. It wasn’t her fault that Sulidan had attempted to hurt them. And besides, she huffed, Ben had agreed to stay, so the least _he_ could do was act in accordance with his choice. And pushing her away like that, calling her way of thinking _naive_. Was she some sort of child in his eyes?

She gritted her teeth at the memory of his harsh words, her face scrunched into a tight scowl, and twirled her saber savagely in any direction her flailing arms moved. She hardly took in her surroundings, and a few more stray branches and needles fell victim to her swinging. Finally, once she cleared the trees, her feet stopped on the bank of a large pond, and she deactivated the saber.

The beauty of the secluded area wasn’t lost on her, but she was in no mood to really appreciate it. She took in a few quaking breaths, but Ben’s words still echoed through her mind, and calming herself was difficult. Her fingers twitched as she tightened her grip on the hilt, and one last burst of furious energy escaped her as she let out a guttural yell, hurling the saber far across the water. She had every intention of catching it before it hit the surface of the pond; her action was simply a means to release her pent-up emotions. The hilt had just cleared the crest of its arc when, before she lifted her hand to call it back, it stalled in the air and, after a moment of breathless suspension, hurtled toward her.

Her initial surprise was short-lived, as swift deduction and a sense of the man standing a few feet behind her alerted her to who now controlled the saber’s movements. She reached out her hand to catch it, but it flew past her, and she whirled around to follow its trajectory, and surprise returned when she saw it land in Ben’s hand.

He was still for a few seconds after he caught the hilt, handling it gently and studying it, his eyes obscured from view by the tumbling waves of his hair. Rey wasn’t sure what to say to this turn-around, and the immediate instinct of relief and happiness at his appearance warred with her lingering frustration with him. At long last, he lifted his head to look at her, and too quickly she felt her resolve to stay angry crumbling beneath the penitence in his eyes. Oh, his effect on her was unfair.

Wanting keenly to appear stoic, she forced herself to speak, steel in her voice. “Oh, now you’ll touch it?”

His response was calm and quiet, which unnerved her. “Seems so.”

With slow but unhesitating steps, he walked to her, keeping his eyes locked on hers. She could almost see his apology in the way he moved, and her determination to remain unshaken continued to falter. Silently, he offered her the hilt, and she was relieved to break his gaze to retrieve it, although the touch of his fingers brushing against hers was enough to set her head spinning.

But there was something else in her hand now as she took back the saber, and her forehead creased in confusion as she rotated her wrist to turn the hilt. Somehow, gracefully and subtly, Ben had managed to hand off not only the lightsaber, but a wilted flower. She recognized the small white petals from the overgrown path that led down to the mining valley, and the peace offering implied from its appearance cut away a little more of her anger.

But she couldn’t give that away, not when Ben still hadn’t actually said the words she deserved to hear. “You couldn’t find anything better than a little weed to give me?” she ridiculed mutely, cursing the lack of malice in her tone.

“Would you rather I waste time searching the flora for the perfect bouquet or would you rather I come and apologize as soon as I realize what a numbskull I was?” he asked in reply.

She lifted her head, an eyebrow raised. “Apologize? Is that what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which, of course, to her, it was. “Can I do it now or should I grovel at your feet?”

She brushed a stray hair off her forehead in a feign of nonchalance. “Wouldn’t hurt to do a little groveling.”

His upper lip curled slightly, but it wasn’t long before he shrugged to himself, and shockingly enough, dropped to a knee. He bent his head in an exaggerated manner, and Rey was forced to suppress a sudden impulse to laugh. His action was meant to mock, but the fact that he still knelt before her like some supplicant was enough to banish the last of her anger. He chuckled himself, and then, with a deep breath, the humor vanished. His shoulders slumped, his hands gripped the knee they had rested on, and when he looked up at her again, there was no hint of mockery, only humble sincerity. Rey felt no desire to laugh now.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” he said. “I am. It was wrong of me to push you away last night, and just now.”

“I wasn’t angry last night,” she muttered, already trying to deflect some of the blame he put on himself.

“It doesn’t matter if you weren’t angry,” he protested gently. “I hurt you.”

“Yes,” she conceded softly.

“So I can’t apologize for just this morning.” He pushed himself back up to his feet. “I wanted to protect you. I still do. Maybe you don’t need it, but that’s just the way it’s going to be, me wanting to make sure no one can hurt you. But because of what we are, that means _I_ can hurt you, in ways I didn’t realize I could. And if I don’t want anybody hurting you, that ‘anybody’ includes me, and I shouldn’t do it.” He sighed and ran a hand through his mussed hair, casting his eyes to the ground. “Does this even make sense?” he asked, more to himself than her.

“A little,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her mouth. She knew what he meant, and as appealing an idea of keeping him in suspense was, her compassion overrode any petty instinct to hold onto resentment. “I understand.”

“You don’t have to be so forgiving so quickly, you know,” Ben replied, his eyes returning to hers.

“Would you rather I torture you by withholding forgiveness?” she asked incredulously.

“It’s just . . .” he backed away a few steps, gathering his thoughts. “I would understand if you wanted to make me sweat. At least a little.”

“It’s a tempting idea,” she admitted with a smirk, “but we have little enough time as it is. I don’t want to waste it, even if you deserve some punishment.” He nodded, his expression pensive. “Ben,” Rey continued, her voice now pleading, “I hope you know that I just want to help you, to be at your side through all of this.”

“I know,” he said. “And I want you with me. I always have. The problem is that I don’t deserve you.”

“Why do you insist on believing that lie?” she asked, frustration bleeding into her once again, and she closed the distance between them.

“Because you’re so good,” Ben said sadly, “and after everything I’ve done, I’ve done nothing to earn it.”

“Nothing? Dying for me was nothing?” she reminded him, grabbing his hand forcefully. She wished he wouldn’t keep on elevating her blindly, especially not at his own expense.

“Maybe it narrowed the gap,” he replied wryly. “But I’ve got a long way to go.”

“But not alone.” Now it was she who locked eyes with him, aching to convince him once and for all that she wouldn’t leave him.

“No.” He sighed again, and tossed his hair out of his eyes. “You know, we both knew that harder times would come. But I think we tricked ourselves into believing that they wouldn’t come so quickly. And I think that they’re going to be worse than we thought.”

“Don’t say that; don’t let your idiotic practicality keep you from hoping,” Rey argued, her fingers grasping more tightly onto his.

He breathed a small laugh. “Why should I bother hoping? You’ve got enough for the both of us.” His free hand lifted to her neck, his thumb grazing across her jaw, a begrudging affection lighting his eyes.

“It would be nice if you would hold on to some yourself, though,” she scolded a little. “Do you really want to ruin the rest of our time together by being so pessimistic?”

The light in his eyes dimmed, and his face became more serious. “Rey, I’m going to say the wrong thing. A lot. I was never good at words, at least not in the moment. The times I’ve had to rehearse what I want to say in my head, even just the last few days . . . And I might do the wrong things, too. But,” he strengthened his hand around her neck, bowing his head closer to hers, “I will never deliberately hurt you.” At her lifted eyebrow, he added, “And I’ll try not to be so pessimistic.”

“And you won’t push me away again?” she cocked her head.

“No.” He shook his head to affirm his words.

“Good. Because I’ve invested too much in you to let you give me up, Ben Solo.”

* * *

As much as Rey would have liked for the next few days to pass pleasantly, there was no escaping the underlying tension and resentment that remained following Sulidan’s attempt on Ben’s life. Sulidan’s comrades, who wisely did not follow his impetuous example, were nevertheless a source of contention, and Lando had his hands full keeping the peace between them all. This chiefly meant keeping the groups separated as much as possible, but overlap was bound to happen occasionally, especially once Sulidan left his room and resumed the duties Lando assigned him.

Ben, for his part, did his best to keep his distance, and was mostly successful, avoiding the dining area in the evenings, when Lando’s team would gather around him and report their findings. He began his own work early in the morning and stayed out of sight as best he could. And, when meeting directly with them could not be avoided, he was shockingly subdued. Rey had never known him to suppress emotion -- she had always felt the storm of feeling surging through him, even behind Kylo Ren’s mask -- but somehow he was able to present an even-keeled, almost emotionless face to his, for lack of a better word, enemies.

Rey knew the reason for this transformation. Ben was exercising a great deal of caution among them, and was afraid of sparking any more recrimination by showing too much of himself. If he appeared overly happy, as she hoped he was by being with her, this could engender further resentment among the crowd, as though he felt no remorse for his past actions and no trepidation at what his future might hold. If he was angry or upset, they would assume he was lapsing back into his old self, and the consequences of that could be disastrous. There was only one way Ben could preserve any peace, and that was by presenting a mild, even serene, front.

She only wished he would break loose of his caution when they were alone. After his labor was finished in the mid-afternoons and Lando graciously granted them the remainder of the days to do as they wished, they would spend their time together, exploring the long-untouched terrain, in silence and speech as the day dwindled into evening. This was precious time to her, and she was grateful for it. But there seemed to be a piece of Ben missing, even as they gained a deeper understanding of each other.

To some degree, she didn’t blame him for his reticence. There was a natural repugnance to speak too openly about certain topics, and when Ben talked of the various worlds he had seen, it was with the understanding that he wouldn’t speak of the purposes of his travels in the last few years. He couldn’t speak of personal topics without reference to being Kylo, and both Rey and he wished to shed any remembrance of who he had been. When he strayed too close to such memories, he would stop himself abruptly, shake his head, and resume his calm expression, now silent. Rey would take his hand on these occasions, offering her sympathy, and she was always glad that he allowed her to touch him again. But although he didn’t shirk her touch, he stopped reaching for her in like manner. He hadn’t kissed her since Tatooine.

This was not to say that flashes of her Ben didn’t reveal themselves occasionally. During the hottest afternoon hours, Ben took it upon himself to teach her to swim. He had insisted on it almost from the outset; she needed to know how to do more than “manage not to drown in a creepy pool in a dark-infused cavern on a Jedi island,” as he so artfully put it. It was here that his new calm demeanor was a boon, because when she struggled with letting go of her own control just to learn to float on her back, he was incredibly tolerant, with no hint of the hot-tempered impatience he had once been wont to display. And his smiles at her victories were real and wide, if occasionally impish, considering she was a grown adult learning a child’s activity. It was then she would remind him she grew up in a desert, and his smirk would deepen. She could almost believe he was having fun. When was the last time he had done _that_?

He would listen to her closely when she spoke, and when she expressed some of her hopes for setting up her training temple, his eyes seemed to gleam with confidence in her abilities. He had disappeared on an early evening into the Falcon and emerged carrying an armload of books, the very ones she had absconded with from Ahch-To. He didn’t say anything as he passed by her, but the slightest wink gave her the reassurance that Ben was still vitally alive underneath this placid shell he presented. She had been distracted by Chewie and Lando soon after with the tempting smells of dinner, but after eating with the group, she had sought Ben out, finding him in what must have once been an office.

He was hunched over a desk, deftly twirling a pen through his long fingers, a jumble of parchment on one side, and an ancient Jedi text open on the other. Completely consumed by his task, he didn’t notice her approach, and she was at liberty to marvel at the way his hand flew across the paper, looping and curving gracefully when he slowed down, and scratching feverishly when in a hurry. Chewie had told her once of Ben’s calligraphy hobby during those months on the Falcon, but it was another image she just couldn’t equate with the memory she had of him, a man who could never slow down lest he be snatched by some unknown demon. Of course a large portion of his Force knowledge must have been gained in study, but until now she never knew he could look so scholarly. It suited him.

When he did notice her, a flush suffused his face, and he shuffled the papers in front of him awkwardly, setting another blank page on top of what he had been writing. Before she could ask his purpose, he explained that he wanted to copy out some of the older texts for her, considering one or two of the older books were practically cracking apart with age. Her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, and she gladly set aside a little of her time each night to watch him write, his hair falling into his eyes as he deciphered faded writing and pointed out little pieces of Jedi history she had known nothing about.

Rey knew he must spend considerable time on his task after she had gone to bed, since the stack of copy was always much higher the next day. But he must be getting some rest, because he never seemed unduly exhausted. However, she never knew exactly how long he spent in that office, for she hadn’t returned to his room, nor had he asked her to. She tried not to be bothered by it, but she missed simply lying next to him. Somehow, that was part of the piece he had shut away by being so careful.

She considered asking him to share a bed again, or to simply demand that he not conceal any part of himself from her. But she wasn’t entirely certain it would be a rational request, as his behavior was perfectly cordial. He was not actively pushing her away, after all, as he had in those hours after Sulidan’s attack. They spoke freely and often, and he didn’t shy away from her, nor would it seem to an objective observer that he _wasn’t_ sharing his thoughts and feelings with her. What right did she have to complain when he had understandable reasons for modifying his behavior? And yet she still felt something was missing.

Some of his caution at first seeped into her own recollections as they would talk together, but eventually she found the courage to speak more openly of her friends. She talked about Finn and the enthusiasm that defined their friendship, both of them so eager to make connections after suffering a lonely past. The way she would butt heads with Poe when he was being particularly stubborn, and her regret that she wasn’t more help to him as he took on political roles that he felt ill-qualified for. How she had been unsure of Rose at first, but the instant they had worked together on a technical task no other mechanic could tackle, a close camaraderie was born. That some of their best conversations had been exchanged with tools in their hands. Ben occasionally smiled when she shared these experiences, but otherwise betrayed nothing of his thoughts. Once more, Rey found herself tempted to probe into his mind, but their unspoken agreement to preserve each other’s privacy kept her from succumbing to such temptations.

Despite her silent reservations, time still passed too quickly, and Rey found herself on her perch in the office that evening, watching the swift pass of Ben’s pen across the paper, wondering if his thoughts strayed to the next day, the last one they would have before . . . Even in her mind, she couldn’t finish the thought.

Lando, who had obviously been stalling for time with his team for a couple of days, had said Ben had done enough to help, and they could do whatever they wanted on their last day here. So far they hadn’t made any plans. And she wasn’t sure if making plans would only remind them of what would come afterward.

Instead, she forced her mind to muse on the information Ben had shared from the book he copied. She had done her fair share of studying the Jedi texts, but the book lying open was one she had barely touched, chronicling the earliest Jedi Order and their schisms and consolidations over generations. One concept, the idea of a Gray Jedi, who eschewed the Order but still followed most of the facets of the Jedi, intrigued her. Possibly because she saw herself in such a way. In fact, Luke had all but told her to be that kind of Jedi. Hadn’t he?

“Would Luke have been considered a Gray Jedi, then?” she asked, giving voice to her thoughts.

Ben snorted, his eyes still on his work. “Definitely not.” He paused, his pen halting on the parchment, and looked at her closely. “What, do you think he qualifies?” She heard the unspoken _Are you serious?_ in his tone.

“Well, exile aside, he held on to his attachments to your mother and father. And he accepted older students to train as Jedi,” she reasoned.

“That might have been out of sheer necessity rather than a true belief that it was right,” he countered. “He was beginning from nothing when he set up his temple. Besides, opposing a couple of characteristics of the Jedi Code wasn’t enough. The Gray Jedi didn’t just oppose the strictures of the Code, they also were willing to use Force abilities that were considered Dark. And Luke _clung_ to the Light. He never would have been willing to skirt the line between the two like the Gray Jedi in history.”

Rey bit the inside of her lip, her eyes averted, drawing Ben’s curiosity out. “You don’t agree?” he asked.

“We had very different experiences with Luke,” she ventured guardedly.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he said ironically, his brow contracting.

“But I think that maybe his view of the Force was still more balanced than the Jedi who came before him, even before . . .”

“He betrayed me?” Ben finished for her. Laying his pen down, he sat back in his chair, his dark eyes brooding as he considered her words. He scratched and rubbed absently at the scruff that had sprung up across his jaw and lip over the past week. Shaving was something that had fallen by the wayside, it seemed. Finally, he shrugged, his head jerking to one side. “Maybe,” he admitted tersely. “Even if he thought that way, he might not have wanted to encourage me to follow such a path. He wouldn’t have wanted to give me any leeway to study Dark abilities; they were already too afraid of my natural pull to them.” He shrugged again. “Too late now.” He picked up the pen, ready to move away from the topic.

“Well, I also wonder if some abilities considered Light don’t already skirt the line, anyway,” Rey continued, trying to remain philosophical rather than personal.

“Such as?” he queried, his head cocked quizzically.

“Mind tricks,” she answered instantly. “If you think about it closely, it’s essentially controlling someone’s thoughts and actions. How is taking away someone’s choice a Light ability? And yet it’s considered standard Jedi practice.”

He nodded slowly, acknowledging her argument. His lips quirked thoughtfully. “Something to consider with your own students.”

“Yes,” she agreed, taking to her feet and stretching her back. She crossed over to stand behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. For the briefest moment, his muscles tensed under her touch, but just as quickly as she felt his tension, it was gone. “Well, I don’t know what kind of Jedi I’ll really turn out to be, but one thing I know I won’t do is take a child away from their family,” she stated vehemently. “Not like that. I can’t . . .” she choked a little on her words, painful memories of separation and loss blinding her vision temporarily.

Ben knew what stopped her voice, and, for the first time in days, instigated touch, his hand lifting to hold her fingers at the curve of his neck. “I know,” he murmured. “And you’re right. A child should be free to grow and make their own choice of what they want to be, no matter their abilities.”

His voice didn’t rise in volume, but it grew earnest as he spoke, and Rey wished she knew what look was in his eyes now. An inkling of a thought occurred to her in that moment, and she wondered she had never considered it before. With all she knew of Ben’s childhood of fear and darkness, she had assumed he was glad for his Jedi training, at least in the beginning. But had he really been given any more choice in his childhood than she had?

His hand slipped out of hers and he picked up his pen, effectively closing the discussion they had begun. She took the hint.

“Are you going to work on that much longer?” she asked, lightly.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Moving again, she crouched down beside him, an arm resting on the desk, her other hand on his arm, drawing his eyes to hers. “Well, don’t plan on copying things tomorrow. It’s our last day . . .” Again, she couldn’t finish the thought, and he didn’t finish it for her, either. “And I don’t want to spend it cooped up inside watching you write.” She gave him a half-smile.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I thought of returning to my roots,” she said thoughtfully, and he gave her a curious look. “Scavenging,” she clarified.

“For what?” he was genuinely perplexed.

“A couple of strong sticks -- staffs. To practice with.”

Comprehension dawned, and his own lips quirked in a crooked smile. “You’re in the mood to spar?”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s been a while since we had a good fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for my absence (so much for updating twice a week, eh?). Illness followed by a severe case of writer's block is my excuse, but I still have no intention of abandoning this story. I've been agonizing over this and the next couple of chapters that tie very closely together, constantly questioning the directions I'm going and if they're even necessary, wondering if my pacing has grown relentlessly slow, rewriting, all that. I'll post the next two chapters very soon, and probably at the same time. They wouldn't have worked as one MONSTER chapter, but they still go together (and are still a couple of beasts, word-count-wise).
> 
> To give some context about my writing, my previous fanfiction works have been in a very different genre (the book North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell, to be specific), and the loads of talking/not so much action is more appropriate to that. Hence why I've been questioning my pacing decisions here, not to mention questioning my decision to write a Star Wars story at all, since it's definitely not in my wheelhouse. But this definitely is more a romance than an action story, and you've all been very understanding of that so far, so I hope that continues. Thanks for sticking with me. Your support is amazing!


	13. A Good Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of emotions, passions, tempers boil over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two chapters together again, so read in order. This one comes first.

It wasn’t easy, finding makeshift staffs that stood up to Ben’s exacting standards. The trees that dotted the landscape were still young enough that the branches weren’t terribly sturdy, easily bending with the slightest touch. But still, there were enough specimens lying about that Rey was annoyed by how long Ben took to inspect yet another stick, long after she’d made her choice. Ben sought perfection, and she rolled her eyes, silently bidding him to make up his mind already. Who knew that, in the midst of her delightful discoveries about him, there were going to be exasperating qualities that tested her patience?

She was musing to herself about what else about him might eventually get on her nerves, when a blur at the corner of her eye came rushing toward her. With no prior warning of Ben’s strike, she barely had time to raise her temporary staff to defend herself as his came down in a mighty crack that knocked her off her feet. She fell to the ground, the shock of his blow still reverberating through her arms, and she stared up at him, indignation fueled by the arrogant smirk on his face as he hefted the knobby staff he had finally chosen in his hands.

“I think this will do just fine,” Ben commented as he sauntered closer, shifting his staff to one hand while he held out his other to her.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused him irately, grudgingly allowing him to help her stand.

“I had to,” he replied, that cursed smile not showing any sign of disappearing. “Catching you off guard was probably my only chance to sweep you off your feet.”

It was a compliment to her abilities, as well as the most flirtatious remark he’d made to her in days, and her brief anger quickly morphed into an energetic anticipation.

With a cocky grin of her own, she recalled her staff to her hand, and she engaged him with lightning step. This was nothing like their previous encounters, lack of animosity aside. As they stepped and whirled, heaving breaths growing louder, staffs flying against each other, Rey felt exhilaration amidst the desire to prove herself. Ben towered over her as much as he ever had, and there was a physical power in his strikes that she could never match, but never before had she seen him move with such fluidity. The rage that had once fueled his actions was no longer there, the feral crouching stance gone, his weapon no longer appearing heavy and cumbersome in his hand. This was Ben fighting as he was always meant to fight, brash confidence melding with a graceful surety. Rey loved it. 

When they finally stopped, panting for breath and covered in sweat, she still couldn’t keep herself from grinning. She had managed to get a few good licks in, her speed and creative use of her staff balancing his forceful strength, and he responded to her victories with pride and pleasure sent across their bond. The barriers he had constructed the last few days had slowly eroded as they had moved and spun in their duel-dance, and Rey was thrilled to see the openness in his smile as he flicked his head toward the pond, daring her with his eyes to beat him to the water.

With his head-start and long legs, there was no way she would outpace him as they raced, but that didn’t matter once she had splashed into the cool water and allowed it to buoy her up and chill her heated skin.

By the time they emerged, the sun was blazing down upon them, and they sat on the grass, awash in contentment as they waited for their hair and clothes to dry. Ben leaned back, his arms behind him bearing his weight, and he closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky. Rey crossed her legs under her as she watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slowed his breathing. She hadn’t seen him so free since Tatooine. Had that really only been a week ago? She wanted to take advantage of this moment, to speak without walls again.

“You didn’t want to be a Jedi, did you?” she asked, hoping that her bald question would not make him cower in retreat.

He opened his eyes in surprise, but fortunately gave no indication of wanting to close himself off. “What gave it away? My temper tantrums, or my attempt to rule the galaxy?” he asked sardonically.

“I just . . . never considered the idea that someone who can use the Force wouldn’t want to be a Jedi,” she replied, tilting her head to one side.

Shifting his weight off of his arms, he hunched forward. “You went to Takadona; you’ve met Maz, haven’t you?”  _ Case in point. _

“Yes,” Rey said slowly. “But she seems to operate on a different plane, and she doesn’t really use the Force, not the way we do.” He watched her steadily. “But I’m asking about  _ you _ ,” she went on. “You said last night that a child should be free to make their own choice of what they want to be. I got the feeling that you weren’t speaking in general terms.”

He pursed his lips for a moment before answering. “No, I never wanted to be a Jedi. Sometimes the idea seemed appealing. The legendary image of a Jedi Knight, cutting their way through all the evil in the galaxy with nothing but a laser sword. What kid doesn’t like to pretend to be a hero? And,” he paused, considering, “I  _ was _ afraid of what I could do. Angry, but afraid, and some part of me knew it was important that I learn to control my power. The same part that wanted to please my parents, to please Luke, no matter how hard it was. But I also knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be.”

She leaned forward. “What  _ did _ you want to be?”

He lifted a corner of his lips in remembrance. “A pilot.”

“Really?” she straightened her back in surprise.

“Is that so shocking?” he asked, his smile deepening at her reaction.

“A little.”

His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I came by it honestly. My dad, and Luke. And Anakin. All flyers. I loved the feeling of freedom, going from place to place and not having to answer to anybody but myself. No one would be able to catch me. Even a speeder gave me something of a thrill, the wind against my face, zooming around faster than what was good for me. That was what I wanted,” he drifted off, a tinge of melancholy in his face.

“Sounds like you still do,” Rey observed.

“In some ways,” he admitted. “But things change. Priorities, life experience, it changes you. And sometimes what you want has to be set aside for other responsibilities, or because there’s something more important to you. Kind of like that  _ General _ Dameron,” he finished, a hint of mocking in his voice at the title.

Again Rey pulled up. “Poe?” she asked, surprised that Ben would be the one to mention any of her friends, even in a derisive tone.

“You were talking about him, about his new duties, and everything he’s doing to rebuild the Republic. It’s not what he wants to do -”

“He hates it,” she interrupted, a fond smile gracing her features.

Ben nodded. “But he knows that it’s more important than being the flyboy he is. So he’ll sacrifice something he wants for something he wants  _ more _ .”

It warmed her to know that, despite the enmity that would arise between Ben and her friends, he was at least willing to acknowledge their positive qualities. “Kind of like you,” she pointed out.

He threw her a strange look, an attempt to look severe. “Are you accusing me and Dameron of having something in common?”

“I guess I am,” she said with a soft smile.

He sighed, lying his back down on the ground, his head resting on his hands. “He’d be horrified to hear you say so.”

“Probably,” she conceded.

He chuckled quietly, and then peered at her more intently. “What about you?” he asked.

“What do I have in common with Poe?”

“No,” he said patiently. “What did you want to be when you were a child?”

Her smile vanished. “Nothing.”

He didn’t say anything, but cocked his head curiously.

“I didn’t exactly have the luxury of being able to imagine myself as anything,” she explained. “Not on Jakku. None of us children around the outpost did. I scavenged and survived. I made a shelter in an old walker. I found a Rebellion fighter helmet, and I would put it on and imagine I was fighting my way out, but I wouldn’t say that I wanted to be a pilot. I only wanted to be free.”

She became wistful at the memory, and she saw that Ben’s casual expression now matched hers, somber and reflective. “The one dream I allowed myself was for my parents to return to me. To belong to someone. Not to be possessed by them, but to belong with them.” She hesitated, but there was no point in holding back. Not with Ben. “A family. That’s what I wanted.” Her voice grew very quiet, and looked at her hands. “What I want.”

His voice was just as quiet, and infinitely gentle. “I want it, too.”

She looked back at him to see his gaze focused on her, and she felt the air shift around them. He gave her that half-smile that was so endearing, and before she knew it, she had moved closer to him, her shoulder brushing against his as she lay down on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She wasn’t sure what to say next with his pronouncement hanging over them. Longing pulled at her as she looked down at him, wanting to keep this moment alive as long as possible.

Ben reached a hand up to her hair. Her buns had not survived both the sparring and swimming, and it hung loose past her shoulders. “I’ve seen you with your hair down enough times that I should be used to it, but I’m not sure I am,” he commented, catching a strand between his fingers and rubbing it absently.

He changed the direction of their conversation, but the flow of the Force around them had not abated. The thread pulling her closer to him only increased its intensity at his touch. “You don’t like it down?” she asked anxiously, a little annoyed at herself that she wanted something so trivial to please him.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied softly, gathering more of her hair into his palm, and she felt her toes tingle. “Just not used to it.”

He had to know the effect he was having on her.  _ Well, two can play at that game, Ben Solo. _ Rey reached out her own hand, her fingers grazing over the lengthening whiskers on his face. “Kind of like I’m not used to this.”

“You think I should get rid of it?” She was secretly pleased to hear the insecurity in his question; at least she was not alone in self-doubt over appearance.

“I didn’t say that,” she repeated back to him, and he smiled. “I do like it; I’m just not sure which way I prefer,” she said thoughtfully. She tilted her head. “Would you change something like that for me?” Not that she wanted him to be at the mercy of her every whim, but she was genuinely curious.

“Sounds like you’d change your hair for me,” he answered. In her mind, she heard him.  _ To be clear, I’m not asking you to _ .

Her eyes roved over his face, the world still and quiet around them. His fingers stalled in her hair. The longing pressure in her breast rose.

“So, what do you want?” he murmured, the question ostensibly still about his facial hair, but in truth it was about much more than that.

“I want you,” Rey replied, her voice a whisper, “just as you are. No matter what you’ve got growing on your face,” she allowed a small jest, and he smiled in response. “Just as you are.”

She felt his fingers grasp her more surely about her head and neck, and his dark eyes turned nearly black as he pulled her in. Their lips met in a languorous kiss that was both questioning and certain. So far their lips had met in passionate reunion and brief sweetness; this was something else altogether. Their mouths opened into one another slowly as though tasting each other for the first time, exploring each other and allowing their souls to touch even as their bodies remained stationary. This was beyond physical desire, though that played no small part; it was devotion and commitment, vulnerability and security, molding together in this peace that they hoped to capture and bottle forever.

* * *

Lando’s crew had left as night fell, and Rey wasn’t altogether sad for the immediate drop in tension their departure brought. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to Lando, who so staunchly supported Ben, but they knew he would drop in again when he was needed. She overheard him say as much to Ben before climbing aboard his ship and giving a final salute to them all.

As much as it was a relief to be rid of the fractious crew members, Sulidan most of all, it was still a stinging reminder that, come morning, they would follow. And not to another planet open with possibilities. Chewie’s presence was a balm to the melancholy that was overtaking Ben again, but even Chewie and BB-8 weren’t enough to entirely dispel a sense of impending doom.

Ben excused himself not too long after they had finished cleaning up after their meal, and Rey could tell that he was trying to minimize the effect of his brooding on their little group. It was considerate of him, but she wouldn’t allow him to escape her the rest of the night. This idle day had reinforced their bond, and she had no intention of being separated from him until absolutely necessary.

Still, she didn’t want to appear overeager, and she delayed a few minutes before also bidding Chewie good night. Chewie’s responding growl was both teasing and knowing, and she was glad that her back was turned to him so he didn’t see her blush. She knew how obvious it was that she was pursuing Ben, but she wouldn’t admit it out loud to Chewie.

First, to stop in her temporary quarters. From a chest of drawers, she pulled out the silken nightgown she had worn the past two nights. She had never slept in nightclothes so unlike her daytime attire, but when she had discovered this garment that was the color of lilacs, left behind by the Baron’s family, she had been fascinated. Its former owner must have been taller than her, for the gown pooled a few inches around her feet, and the neck was wide and loose across her shoulders, but she didn’t mind those inconveniences much. Not when it gave her the sensation of sleeping in a cloud. She considered simply taking it with her when they left; what use would it be left to moths and age?

Perhaps she would decide once she determined Ben’s opinion of it. A flutter of nerves floated in her stomach as she slipped through the side door that joined their rooms. She felt a little silly; her appearance had never been something that she bothered with very much, but for some reason it became more important with every passing moment that Ben liked the way she looked. He had called her beautiful, but was it the kind of beauty a disinterested observer would admire in an untouchable work of art? She wanted more than that, to be pleasing and feminine, to be . . . alluring. Things she had never striven to be before. What was this baffling inclination?

But before she could berate herself too much for indulging trivial weaknesses, Ben appeared in the doorway of the refresher, where he had clearly just finished bathing. Clad only in trousers, his broad chest bare, he was toweling off the remaining drops of water from his hair. He was also clean-shaven again, a fact only clear to her when he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of her, his towel dropping in a damp heap on the floor. The nerves in her stomach rocketed to her chest and throat as his eyes roamed over her, his lips barely parting, his expression hard to read in the shadows of his room contrasted with the light at his back. Was he shocked? Pleased? Horrified?

“Where . . .” he spoke softly, and Rey let out a breathy sigh of relief that he sounded more astonished than repelled. “Where did you find that?”

“In my room,” she replied shyly. She bit her lip as he drew closer to her. “What do you think?”

His gaze had been more on the nightgown than on the rest of her, and her question stopped him in his tracks and he focused once more on her face. His surprise at her question was easier to observe now. “I think,” he stammered, clearly caught off-guard, “I think that . . .” he trailed off, stepping closer still and taking her hand in his. “You’re beautiful,” he said firmly.

Pleasure coursed through her at the compliment, and she tried to fight off the last hold of anxiety that wanted to dispute his words. “Really?” The warmth radiating from his body was beginning to affect her; her breaths came in faster and more unsteady the closer he stood.

“Rey,” he spoke gently, his eyes simply begging for her to be lost in their depths, “never doubt that I will always see you as the loveliest woman I’ve ever known, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“So I could have worn my wrappings and you’d still think I’m beautiful?” she asked, trying to calm her erratic breathing by injecting some irony into her response.

“Of course I would,” he replied, his tone still as sincere as ever. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t especially appreciate what you’re wearing right now.” Even in the dim light, she could see the corner of his mouth lift, and the frank perusal he made of her body once more.

Well, there went her attempts at tranquility. He was simply too close to allow her any more coherent thought. The touch of his hand on hers was no longer sufficient. She lifted her other hand to his chest, her fingers softly, so softly, brushing along his skin. She felt a quiet moment of triumph when she heard his breath shudder above her ear, his breathing becoming heavier and faster, her power over him matching the spell he cast on her. Her delicate exploration stopped when she reached the invisible spot where once the scar she had given him had bisected his skin.

They held very still as her hand rested there, the silence overwhelming. She leaned forward, and giving into her impulses, pressed her lips to that very spot. He inhaled rapidly, his breath a hiss echoing above her, but he made no move to stop her, and she dotted her way along the line that was no longer there, up his chest, his neck, and finally, hovering just under his tantalizing lips that were so close.

He crushed her to him in an instant, wrapping his arms around her waist, desperate, yearning kisses bruising her lips. Her response was eager, returning his fervor and deepening the kisses with a natural instinct to allow him entry, an urgent desire driving their every movement. Before she knew it, he flattened her back against a wall, her hands gripping around his shoulders as he continued the welcome onslaught on her mouth, lips moving and dancing together, pressing closer, barely surfacing to breathe. His fingers slipped along the silky fabric of her nightgown, exploring curves and crevices that had not yet been touched, and satisfaction and a desire for more, just more, exploded through her.

The air was cool at her back as he twirled her away from the wall, never keeping his lips far from hers. In her heady delirium, she had a faint impression of being half-carried, half-walked across the room, only stopping when the back of her legs hit the bed. Left to her own power, she would have immediately fallen back; her knees felt ready to buckle under the staggering intensity of his every caress. But for a moment, the loudest moment of silence, Ben’s lips left hers, and she opened her eyes to see him searching her face, a question in his stormy eyes. It could not have been possible for him to miss the barest nod she gave him in answer. He bent his head to her again, and she opened her mouth in anticipation.

Which was why it felt like a cold punch to her gut when suddenly he withdrew his arms, his steps shaky as he lurched away from her. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head as if to clear it. “We have to stop,” he rasped, not meeting her eyes.

She had yet to recover from her amorous haze, not truly registering his words. “What?” she gasped, sinking onto the bed, her legs unable to support her.

“We have to stop,” he repeated, his voice more stable. “We can’t do this. I can’t - I shouldn’t do this.”

Her mind began to clear, realizing now what he was saying. The thought occurred to her that, in his never-ending quest to see her as pure and good, he was still trying to protect her from himself. There was no need. “Ben, if you’re worried about me -”

“No,” he interrupted, now meeting her eyes with his. “I’m not.”

She tested her unwieldy legs and stood. “Yes, you are. And you don’t have to be. I want this.” She walked closer to him, laying a hand on his arm.

But he threw her off with a furious shake. “I know. But I can’t. Rey, if we do this, if I . . .” he paced a few steps, trying to calm himself, and then turned to face her head-on, releasing a tremulous breath. “I won’t be able to leave you. I can feel it. If I know what it is to be with you like this, I won’t give it up. I’ll drag you off, run away, and do everything I said I wouldn’t do. Everything I said about making things right, I’ll throw it away. I’ll fail.”  _ Again. _

She heard the last word through their bond, and felt a heavy sorrow blanket all other sensations. “All right,” she replied. It wouldn’t be right to force intimacy on him, not if he felt uneasy, but she had to stamp down the feeling of discontent at the elevation and abrupt termination of the passion he elicited in her. She only hoped that her disappointment wasn’t too clear to him. “All right,” she repeated, nodding her head so as to convince herself it really was all right.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered dully.

“I understand.”

“I wish you could,” he said bitterly with a shake of his head.

“What?” What in the world did he mean by that? Was she so simple that she couldn’t comprehend a difficult choice he had made? She felt her ire beginning to rise, more quickly than it otherwise would have, but it couldn’t be helped. Her blood was still up, not having been given a significant amount of time to cool from his former ministrations.

He didn’t catch the hint of danger in her voice and continued in the same vein. “I wish you could understand, but you’re too good -”

There it was again.  _ Too good. _ The false image of untarnished light he was projecting onto her, and she snapped at the mention of it. “Stop it! Stop it, Ben.”

“What?” he questioned, truly perplexed at her fiery interruption.

“Stop telling me I don’t understand! Stop telling me I’m too good to know what you’re going through!”

His face hardened. “You don’t know,” he argued, his head shaking at her. “You don’t know what it’s like, fighting yourself constantly, hearing that voice try to tell you that a wrong thing is right. Or that something that you want is what you deserve to take right now. Even if taking it means you’ll head down a path to the darkness.”

“I don’t know?” she erupted, pacing before him, feeling his frustration rising to meet hers. “I don’t know about wrong seeming right? Because standing in front of evil itself, given the choice between saving everyone I care for and letting them all die isn’t exactly what that is? That was what I had to choose, and I nearly chose wrong! I almost took on the darkness to save everyone on Exegol, so don’t tell me I don’t know what it feels like to have wrong seem right.” She stopped to face him, their faces matching in mounting fury. “You may have failed the other night with Sulidan, but you don’t know what  _ I _ could have done to him if you hadn’t beaten me to it. You don’t know that I wouldn’t have made the same mistake to protect  _ you _ .”

“You wouldn’t have!” he exclaimed, as though it were as simple as that.

Rey wouldn’t have it, though. “Stop it, Ben! Stop treating me like a child!”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” He threw his hands in the air.

“It is! You tell me that it’s impossible for me to choose the dark, as though I’m some innocent baby who will always do right. And every - _ every _ \- decision you have made since you came back has been made without me, even though every one of those decisions directly affects me!”

His voice turned icy at this new claim in her attack. “I explained all of those decisions to you. Don’t act like I’m shutting you out because of them,” he demanded with an angry swipe of his arm through the air.

Rey herself was surprised at the turn her argument had taken, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. Clearly, this was a part of her simmering resentment, and it might as well be said as long as she was airing grievances. “Yes, you’ve explained them, but only after you’ve made up your mind. You’re not really discussing them with me, just telling me what you’re going to do.”

“I’m doing what needs to be done. You know that.” He was struggling not to raise his voice again, but the shuddering exhalations of breath made it clear how difficult it was for him.

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to accept if you didn’t treat me like I have no voice,” Rey argued, stepping closer to him. “I deserve some say when your choices affect me. And you can’t act like it’s nothing when you tell me that making love to me will turn you back to the Dark side!”

His eyes blazed ferociously, and he pointed a trembling finger in her face. “Don’t say that,” he ordered in a tortured murmur, “don’t put it so crudely, when you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” she shot back, pushing his hand away from her. “When you say that taking something you want now is going to lead you back down a path to the darkness, what else does it mean? What else am I supposed to think?” He turned away furiously, and the sight of his bare back only spurred her on. “You  _ promised  _ \- you promised you wouldn’t push me away again.”

He whirled around. “This isn’t pushing you away; this is me saying that we’re not supposed to do this right now!”

“Because it’s a path to the Dark side?” she exclaimed mockingly.

He looked ready to strangle something, possibly even her. “Because no matter how right this feels between us, it’s the wrong time! Why won’t you understand me?” he shouted.

“Because you don’t give me a chance to listen before you shove your way down my throat!” Rey shouted back.

“And here we are, back to me treating you like a child,” he scoffed, his arms gesturing in ridicule before he closed the gap between them, pointing toward the bed. “If I thought of you as a child, Rey, we wouldn’t have come  _ close  _ to what was happening just now.”

“But you still won’t see me, Ben,” she pleaded, and hot tears sprang into her eyes that she immediately tried to clamp back. “You still won’t see  _ all  _ of me, and how much I struggle with the balance, too.”

His nostrils flared angrily. “I haven’t seen you struggle all that much in the last week,” he spat.

“Just because I haven’t been tested to the degree you have doesn’t mean it’s not there. Besides, even if it’s been easier the last few days, you know better than anyone the conflict that is in me, just as it’s in you, but you’ve ignored it, so sure that you’re the dark to my light.” He reared back at her accusation, his body jerking as if stung. “I’m not some shining beacon, Ben. I have to wear that mantle to everyone in the galaxy, but I shouldn’t have to with you. It’s not fair, and I can’t be everybody’s savior all the time.”

Now her tears were spilling over, and whether it was them, or something else in her voice, but something emanating from Rey must have finally pierced Ben’s anger, because his expression began to change, frustration replaced by a dawning understanding and mortification. But Rey was not finished.

“And if that’s how you’re always going to look at me, you’re right. Sharing a bed with you is not what I should be doing tonight.” She wiped her eyes, and in the brief moment she allowed herself to observe him, she saw the old haunted look he used to carry. A small instinct within her told her to stay her words and make that look vanish, but the greater, more dominant part of her couldn’t stand to be in his presence any longer. “There. You got your way again,” she said wearily, and, swiveling on her heel, stalked swiftly back to her door.

She heard Ben follow her, speaking her name feelingly as she wrenched open the door, not bothering to look back. “Rey, don’t walk away. Don’t leave it like this.” She wouldn’t listen to any more, and slammed the door behind her, closing him off. But before she could collapse onto her bed, she heard him shout her name one last time, and the tell-tale slam of a fist on the wall between them before silence descended.


	14. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two dopes admit where they went wrong. As well as another important thing to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters being posted together again, so read in order. This is the second one.

It was just as well that Lando had gone, Ben thought angrily as he prowled among the moonlit trees, kicking whatever obstacles lay in his path. He wasn’t in the mood for another scolding, and he was pretty sure that after this blow-up, Lando would have immediately assumed Rey was the injured party. A niggling voice in Ben’s head taunted him that this wasn’t an entirely unjustified opinion, but his anger pushed the voice further back.

Even now, his body cried out to be near her, to throw off all restraint and carry her off to his bed. The naked desire in her eyes during that moment he had pulled away was almost enough to propel him into madness, but he couldn’t give in. Not when he had heard something else at that moment, an instinct, a pull that tempted him.  _ Take this. She will let you. Take her. Take her, and leave the galaxy behind. Take her and run forever. _

A fear-fueled horror at the thought was what prompted him to rip himself away from her arms. Rey, who was the one good and right thing he had left remaining to him, who he wanted more than anything, was offering herself to him in the most profound way, and he had to deny her, to deny himself. As long as there was that barest possibility of slipping, he could not do this, and he had to stop.

It was right, he fumed to himself. Stopping himself was right. Making love to Rey, the act itself, may not be Dark, as she had so foolishly accused him of thinking, but he was not in a place where he was ready for it. Not if doing so would cause him to abandon his attempt at redemption. But no, she had to assume the worst of his muddled words. She refused to understand.

With a ferocious twist of his arm, he lifted and sent the rocks around him flying, smashing into a large boulder across the clearing. The debris and dust didn’t have a chance to clear before he levitated more, hurling them along the same path, the harsh stone splintering on impact. Over and over again, releasing his anger into his movements, until there was nothing left except the boulder, which barely showed any hint of damage beyond a few small cracks. His rage boiled over -- how dare this rock escape any hurt when he was so filled with it? He ran up to it, kicking at it furiously, paying no mind to the pain shooting up his foot and leg at the repeated efforts.

But the rock withstood his feet, and eventually his anger had to subside. He scowled at the boulder as he stopped, and briefly considered simply throwing it with the same Force as he had the smaller rocks, just to get it out of his sight. 

“Are you done?”

He jumped at the voice, and whirled to face the speaker. Shame spread through him. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own feelings, he would have sensed her presence. And she knew it, the lift of her eyebrow giving a weary patience to her glowing aura.

He heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re here to scold me, aren’t you?” It would be fitting, after all. She  _ was _ his mother.

“Oh, I’m not sure I’d go that far. But are you ready to talk, or should I wait until you’re done teaching that rock a lesson?” Leia quipped.

He couldn’t help it; one more act of defiance was in him, and he kicked at it a final time, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m sure that’ll show it,” she said with a sarcastic nod of her head.

Of course he was glad to see her; his memories of  _ There _ were fading, and this was the first time his mortal eyes beheld her in years. But as she watched him silently, steadily, he knew that this was not some kindly Force ghost visit, the kind he had heard about from Luke.

“Please don’t tell me you’re here about what just happened,” he moaned, turning away from her.

“You mean you and Rey just now? You think I’m here about something else?” She almost sounded amused, which only embarrassed him further.

“Oh, I don’t want to have this conversation with my mother,” he murmured under his breath, now using the offensive boulder as a seat, hiding his face in his hands.

“It might not be so bad,” she said bracingly, coming closer. He only groaned in response. “We never got a chance to talk about girls before, and some maternal advice might be helpful.”

“I don’t care what you say,” he said forcefully, removing his hands, facing her directly. “I had to stop. Stopping was the right thing to do.”

“I never said it wasn’t,” she shook her head with a crooked smile.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. Didn’t her presence mean he had done something wrong and she was here to set him straight? “So you think I did the right thing?”

She shrugged at first, but at his glare she spoke. “Yes, you did the right thing,” she conceded. “But-”

He leapt to his feet, plowing ahead before listening to what else she might say. “See? Rey should know that, too!” He pointed up at the distant house.

“It might surprise you, but she does,” Leia replied.

“Then why is she so upset?” he demanded.

“Ben,” she admonished, “do you think she’s actually upset about you not sleeping together?”

He sighed. The bulk of Rey’s arguments really had very little to do with that, and he had to admit it. “No.”

“So then what is she upset about? I think she spoke very eloquently about what was bothering her.”

He slumped down onto the boulder again. The sting of Rey’s accusations hadn’t left him, and now that his temper had cooled, he was able to reflect more clearly on her words. “Have I really been treating her that way? The way she said? Like a child?” he asked morosely.

“What do you think?” Leia prompted, sitting beside him.

He scowled again. “Why can’t you Force ghosts give a straight answer? Yes or no?”

She lifted her eyebrows at him, a sure sign that he was testing her patience. “Because most of the time, you know the answer already. And if you don’t, it’s still up to you to work it out yourself.”

“Then what good is your being here?” he muttered mutinously.

In hindsight, he knew he deserved the swat she gave to the back of his head. “To help you know you’re not alone, and I’ll tell you just this once that I’ve had quite enough of that tone, young man.”

“Sorry,” he uttered meekly. Crossing Leia Organa was never a good idea, and it was doubly foolish when she was your mother. He rubbed awkwardly at his neck, his thoughts returning to Rey. “Of course I see who she is, darkness and light together. But really, she’s always chosen the Light, and I’ve chosen . . . well, we know what I’ve chosen most of the time. I only wanted to build her up, encouraging her. I didn’t realize I was giving her the impression that I didn’t see everything she is.”

“Sounds to me like you’re saying this is just a miscommunication,” Leia said skeptically, “but have you really been seeing the real her? Or were you trying to only see her light?” Her eyes glittered in challenge, and Ben deflated under the pressure.

“Maybe.” Leia’s continued silence goaded him into the whole truth. “All right, I was ignoring any darkness,” he admitted. “Maybe I was in denial, I don’t know. But I’m not wrong, either; she  _ is _ good!” he said petulantly.

“Yes. But she’s more than that, too. And you shouldn’t act like she’s only some Jedi hero; that’s how strangers look at her, but you’re no stranger. You know her better than anyone, just like she knows you. She has a voice. You need to listen to it, even when she says something that doesn’t fit that heroic picture, because you might be the only one she trusts to be that open with.”

“I never meant to take away her voice,” he said regretfully.

“And telling her that sleeping together was a path to the Dark side wasn’t exactly endearing,” Leia pointed out.

He jumped up again, his shoulders hunching defensively. “That’s not what I meant!”

“But can you blame her for interpreting it that way?”

He huffed in frustration. “I never was good at words.”

“Don’t use that as an excuse; it might be a weakness of yours, but you’re better than you think you are,” she replied. For a moment, there was silence, and he saw a fond smile cross her features. “It’s been nice to see you writing again, though,” she said, as though it was a related thought. Did she know what he had been writing in addition to copying Jedi texts? He didn’t want to inquire, but he relaxed under her softened tone, and returned to the rock again.

“Ben,” she said gently, “there’s something else. You know it. You know you’ve been acting differently, that there’s a part of you you’re shutting off from Rey, even with everything you’ve shared. What is it?”

He slouched forward, his hands on his knees. The impulse that had tempted him while Rey was in his arms sprang into his mind again, that frightening enticement that told him to throw everything away. He felt sick at the memory, at the knowledge that he could still be so drawn to the wrong choice. He examined his hands closely, feeling Leia’s eyes on him. She would wait as long as she needed to.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, the admission a massive effort. “Before, with Snoke, his voice was in my head, telling me to embrace everything that could lead to the Dark side: anger, fear, passion, rage, whatever it might be. And it was terrible. But it was someone else’s voice then. Now, that voice I hear is  _ mine _ . If anything, I’m more responsible now to choose good over evil, and I’m scared I won’t be able to push the darkness away when it’s my own voice telling me to choose it.” He paused. “I’m afraid of failing. And I’m afraid of pulling Rey down into that failure with me. Maybe,” his mind presented an explanation as he spoke, “maybe that’s why I’ve been trying to convince myself - and her - she’s capable only of goodness. I don’t ever want her to walk in darkness, like me.”

Leia rested a shimmering hand on his. “Ben, I can’t imagine the torment you endured, having Snoke twist you like that all your life. But now you get to experience what it’s like for everyone else.” She bounced his fist in her grip, drawing her eyes up to hers.

“Everyone is in a constant battle with themselves to choose between good and evil, the light and the dark. Including you. Including Rey,” she emphasized with a squeeze of her hand. “And you’re right; you are more responsible now. But you’re not alone in your fight. Shutting out this part of yourself from the person who understands you the most isn’t the way. She may even be able to help you find the balance you need, to not just push away the dark, but to truly control it, so it doesn’t control you. Ever again.”

“I don’t want to drag her down with me,” he said, turmoil ratcheting through him, and he felt tears welling in his eyes.

“You won’t,” Leia affirmed kindly. “Just let her in, Ben. Completely. Allow for your fear, but don’t let it take over and paralyze you. Tell her what you’ve just told me. She won’t turn away from you, and you know it. She’s with you. Let her in, Ben.”

* * *

Rey escaped into the Falcon almost as soon as her eyes opened that morning. She wasn’t ready to face Ben and fall victim to his expressive eyes as he inevitably would apologize, winning her over despite her best efforts. The few hints of comprehension in his face as she had walked away the previous night made it clear that he felt regret even then, and knowing his habits so far, he wouldn’t waste time in making amends. But she didn’t want to hear it yet.

Not that she wanted to go on forever without forgiving him, not if he truly took her valid arguments into account, but she doubted that she could handle an emotional reconciliation just now. Not when she needed every ounce of fortitude she possessed for what must be done today.

It was also difficult to admit to herself that not everything she had said the previous night was entirely accurate. Yes, she wanted Ben to recognize her voice and opinions, but to claim that he didn’t listen to her was simply wrong. He made the decision to turn himself in to the Resistance on his own, but he had also assented to her request for a delay.

And then there was the obvious catalyst for their fight, and Rey was still a little ashamed at how she had twisted his words around to suit her anger when it came to  _ that _ issue. After she had lain awake and allowed her body to release its tension the previous night, she discovered she wasn’t so upset that he had stopped them from falling into bed together. In fact, now that she could ponder in the light of day, checking controls and steeling herself for the ordeal ahead, she found it completely understandable. If she felt this pain at the thought of turning him over, even with their argument unresolved, how much harder would it be if they had bound themselves together in such a complete way? She wasn’t sure  _ she _ would have the strength to give him up if they had given in to their desires. She couldn’t blame him for recognizing the same limitations in himself. No, she was no longer upset at  _ that. _

Rey wasn’t alone in the ship for long. Chewie, followed by BB-8, joined her for pre-flight operations, but both had a subdued air about them. BB rolled along slower, his beeps lower in pitch, and Chewie, following Rey’s example, said nothing beyond the bare necessities. He had his own reasons to be melancholy at the prospect of today, but he also couldn’t be blind to the tension that arose when Ben made his way into the Falcon, the Jedi texts stacked in his arms. Chewie had looked between Ben and Rey curiously, but didn’t question them as they hurriedly went about their own business. He had heard raised voices and slammed doors the previous night, but he wouldn’t press either of them for details.

_ Pups, the both of them. _ He left Rey alone in the cockpit, his irritation at their antics still not overpowering his compassion for the difficulties they would yet face.

Soon enough, Rey sat in the pilot chair, staring out the viewport. It was time for her to make a call,  _ the _ call. Her hand hovered over the controls for minutes, long after she knew everything was loaded and prepared. This was the first of many moments of truth for her, for them.

“Rey?” Ben’s voice was gentle as he entered the cockpit behind her. She immediately tensed at the melodious sound, both craving and hating his presence. As if this wasn’t hard enough. “Rey, we need to talk.”

He was right, but still she knew that if they did talk, at this very moment, she could too easily give in to the temptation to flee. She had to maintain her coldness. She mashed the button down in answer, not daring to look at him, not even as he took the co-pilot seat, his body facing her. Static crackled over the channel she opened, and she swallowed thickly, hoping that whoever answered the call wouldn’t be able to hear the reluctance she felt at the whole business. Ben remained quiet, and she felt his stare even as she kept her eyes focused on the console.

A faint voice interrupted the static, asking her to identify herself.

“This is,” her voice was weak, and she had to cough to clear out the cobwebs in her throat, “This is the Millenium Falcon.”

“Rey?” The voice was louder, and clearly delighted; Rey now recognized Kaydel on the other end. “It’s been ages!”

“Connix,” she tried to reply in as friendly a voice as she could muster. She couldn’t bother with pleasantries right now; they were too distracting. “I need to talk to Finn or Poe. As soon as possible.”

“Is everything all right?”

Rey closed her eyes at the evident concern, but she couldn’t answer truthfully right now. “Yes, but I need to speak to one of them, or both.”

“Finn’s off-planet right now,” Kaydel said. “We expect him back in a day or two; he was leading a raid -”

“Poe, then,” Rey interrupted. “Is he there?”

Kaydel now seemed to realize Rey wasn’t in the mood for extraneous details. “Yes, he is. It might be a few minutes before I can locate him, but I can get him for you.”

“Thank you; I’ll wait.” Rey felt a little guilty at her terseness, but with Ben beside her, his eyes never leaving her, she couldn’t afford to waste time on superfluous words. Any moment she was sure she could break, and she hardly even wanted Ben to know it.

“Rey,” he said again, taking advantage of the time Rey would have to wait for Poe to answer. The prickling sensation was behind her eyes again, and she turned her head further away from him, screwing her eyes shut, wanting so much to drive away all emotion from this moment.

“You won’t look at me,” he observed. “Fine. I won’t make you. But I want you to listen.” He took a quick breath. “You were right. I was afraid. I was afraid of acknowledging everything you are. I was raising you up in a way you didn’t deserve. I forgot . . . you aren’t just an embodiment of light, some hero on a pedestal. You’re real. More real than anything else in the universe to me. It’s just that I spent so long trying to get you to turn, to embrace the dark; I’m ashamed of that, and I didn’t want to make that mistake again. But I went too far in the other direction. I’m sorry.”

His pleading voice was too much to resist, and despite the weakness it would show, she turned toward him. He would see the lone tear that tracked down her cheek, but what else was new? His posture hadn’t changed, and he made no move to close the distance between them. Perhaps he knew that she needed him to stay removed from her.

“And I’m sorry for overriding your voice,” he continued. “The choices I’ve made, they were necessary, but . . . I should have been listening to you, too. I never want you to be silenced, not by anyone, and definitely not by me.”

She felt the tear dry as they looked at each other in silence, his sorrowful expression likely mirroring hers. His lips parted again, as if there was something else he wanted to say, and she felt a brush of his feelings in her soul. Without warning, she slammed an invisible door between them the moment she began to read his emotion. On top of everything, she couldn’t bear to hear it now. Not when she was struggling to give him up. If he said it now, she would abandon everything to be with him.

Ben sat up straighter as her barrier blocked him, and his mouth closed. But instead of looking angry, his eyes were soft with understanding. He nodded slightly, and stood, beginning to exit the cockpit.

Rey shocked herself by rising swiftly. She wouldn’t listen to everything, but she could at least acknowledge that she heard his apology, felt his sincerity, and admit some culpability. “You were right, too,” she said quickly, and he turned back to her. She forced herself to keep her expression blank and her voice cold. Any break might let him back in. “The decisions you’ve made,” she clarified. “You are doing what’s right. Please don’t believe that I think otherwise. I was angry, but I was wrong to imply that you’re not doing the right thing. You are.”

He stared at her for a moment, his brow furrowed, and she wished she could allow him to freely express everything he held behind his tortured eyes. A strangled “Thank you” reached her ears, but that was all they both could manage without opening wide the floodgates that would sweep them away into a fantasy they could not indulge.

The comm crackled behind her, the static puncturing the silence, and Rey turned back to the console at the sound of Poe’s voice filling the cockpit. “Rey? Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here,” she replied, her brain all in a muddle.

“Rey!” Poe sounded exceptionally pleased. “It’s good to hear your voice!”

She leaned her hands on the console, a small smile cracking through. “It’s good to hear yours, too,” she said, hoping her voice would not fail.

“So, we’re actually talking. Does that mean you’re coming back to us? Do I finally get my droid back?”

“Your droid?” she managed a hint of indignation, thinking it would restore a semblance of normalcy to her voice.

“Yes. My droid. He’s got to be so bored tagging along with you on your pilgrimages.”

“I think he’s survived.”

“No trees have fallen on him?”

“No. And I’ve kept the Falcon from being set on fire, too.” She couldn’t resist a dig.

“No credit to you, I’ll bet. That’s got to be all Chewie’s doing. Is he with you, too?”

Now she hesitated. Ben hadn’t left the cockpit; he was waiting for her to do what she must. “Yes, he is. And . . .” She took a deep breath. “There’s someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yes. I need you to -” she felt herself being strangled by the words that would follow. “I need you to have a holding room ready. I’m bringing in . . .” She didn’t want to say the word, and she turned her head to look at Ben. His body was taut, his mouth set, and his eyes told her what she must say, no matter the cost to him. “I’m bringing in a prisoner.” Ben’s eyes continued to bore into hers, a challenge and reminder that she had to reveal the final piece of information.

“A prisoner?” Poe exclaimed in surprise. “That’s . . . unexpected. I’ll make sure there’s a cell prepared. Who is it?”

She had to fight the trembling in her body. Her locked gaze onto Ben was the only thing keeping her on her feet. He gave her a brief, tense nod, and through quivering lips, she answered. “Ben Solo.”

There was silence on the other end, the faint crackle of static all the reply she had from Poe. She could imagine the shock he felt, but as the silence became more prolonged, she began to wonder if he had heard her at all. She was about to ask when Poe finally spoke, his voice strained.

“Rey. Are you serious?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t look at Ben any more, and turned back to the comm. Ben’s shuffling steps receded from the cockpit, and she was left alone.

“What - how -” Poe stuttered.

“That doesn’t matter,” she responded quickly. “What time is it there?”

“Just after noon.”

“Fine. We should be there by sundown, then.”

“Rey, I know what this must mean -”

“Just be ready for us,” she cut in. She was not in the mood for false sympathy. “We’ll see you then.”

“All right,” Poe replied. “I . . .” Rey heard his sigh, and felt another brief stab of guilt. She had dropped this on his lap, and then simply expected him to deal with his shock alone. “We’ll see you soon.”

Her guilty conscience overrode her coldness for an instant. “Poe, I know this is a lot. I just . . . I can’t -”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “I get it. I mean,” he chuckled ironically, “I don’t, but . . . we’ll figure it out once you’re here.”

“Okay,” she replied. “See you soon.”

Within minutes, the Falcon had lifted off, and Chewie took his place at her side, giving her comfort and support as she reminded herself to breathe. One terrible step was done, and Ben was staying away from her so they could accomplish this next one without swerving off-course and abandoning the whole thing. She was torn between gratitude and torment at his absence, and the next several hours did nothing to help her decide between the two prevailing emotions. She would not leave the cockpit, and the wall she had put up in their bond was terribly effective at blocking Ben from sending anything to her from where he sat. And no matter how much she longed to know what he was thinking, she didn’t lower the barrier for the duration of the flight.

The warning alert that they would be dropping from hyperspace any moment interrupted her conflicted thoughts, and Rey closed her eyes painfully. Hadn’t they just left? The journey had not been nearly long enough, now that they were making their approach. The tears she had managed to hold back were now threatening to burst out of her, and Chewie’s reassuring hand on her shoulder barely kept her in check.

The space of time between dropping out of lightspeed and entering Ajan Kloss’s atmosphere was shorter than she wanted it to be. Any moment, and Ben would be torn away from her. Now, as he entered the cockpit again, regret filled her. Why had she so foolishly blocked him the past few hours? Her coldness and avoidance, whatever purpose they had served, seemed so stupid and wasteful now. And why had he been so cursedly understanding? Why couldn’t he have forced her to shatter the wall she constructed? Why couldn’t she have just let go of her restraint and allowed him to say what she so desperately wanted to hear over and over again?

When Ben spoke, his voice was low and careful. “Chewie and I were talking earlier,” and a stab of pain coursed through her at the sound she treasured, “and we thought it might be better if he were the one to officially escort me. We don’t know what kind of welcome committee to expect. What do you think?”

Chewie cast a stray glance her way, trying to gauge her reaction, but she still had to keep her vision clear as they made their landing approach, so she merely nodded in agreement, keeping her gaze forward, not trusting that she wouldn’t burst into tears if she dared speak. The dreaded trip was over as they touched down, and now she had to restrain the same impulse that Ben had considered on Kashyyyk, forcing her hands away from the controls so she would not lift off again.

Her hands balled into fists as they walked the curved halls, every step closer to the ramp more painful than the last. The tears at last began to fall, and she had to stop walking, allowing Chewie and Ben to outstrip her. She was not sure how much longer she could bear up under the repressive agony that wanted to make her collapse in a sobbing heap on the floor. She wanted it over. She didn’t want the separation to come. Her heart was overcome with a riot of discordant desires, and she couldn’t stand it.

Ben and Chewie’s footsteps stopped, and she finally found the courage to look directly into Ben’s face for the first time in hours. He and Chewie stood on opposite sides of the closed entrance, Chewie waiting for the signal to drop the ramp. But Ben gave no sign that he was ready to leave, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Rey. His mouth was twisted downwards, his face a shrine of pain and longing. That he clearly shared her misery was hardly a comfort, and her chest constricted painfully as she watched his face become streaked with his own tears.

The sight of his pain was what finally broke the dam of her grief. With an anguished sob, she flung herself across the distance between them, her body colliding into his, crying fast and thickly into his chest. He folded her into his arms, his body quaking in rhythm with hers, the bond open again between them, relieved to be set free but multiplying every ache that they felt. Rey wished she could speak now, but her cries were far too powerful to allow her breath. Ben’s fingers carded through her hair, his lips on her brow, and she lifted her face to him.

The maddening, frantic kiss they shared was wet and sloppy from their tears, but she didn’t care. She clung to him with all her remaining strength, letting him rain kiss after messy kiss on her lips, face, neck, anywhere he could reach. It didn’t matter that they had an audience; she couldn’t let him go.

He buried his face into her neck, breathing deeply, and she felt his attempt to steady himself. “Too late to change my mind?” he breathed into her skin, and she shuddered.

“Not. Funny,” she whispered, wanting to give him a dirty glare, but not quite mustering it when he pulled back far enough so that he could hold her face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, barely audible. “I told you I couldn’t make a good joke.” He was trying to smile, but completely failing. With another kiss to her lips, his voice cracked in fresh pain, and he laid his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry, Rey. I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry for this right now. I’m sorry for who I was, everything I did -”

She held his arms below the shoulders, trying to etch her forgiveness in the grip of her fingers on his skin. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “For the things I said.” He shook his head to wave her off, his heartache overwhelming both of them. Last night no longer mattered in the wake of what was before them.

But he had one final apology to give. “I’m sorry you have to keep suffering because of what I was,” he whispered back. There was so little she could say to this. The only response coming to her mind was to lean forward and kiss him softly, slowly, praying that he would know he was worth the suffering. The man he was now was worth everything.

He pulled back from her kiss reluctantly, but his eyes focused on her with an earnestness that filled her heart. She felt it before he said it.

“I love you.”

Her shoulders began to shake with more silent sobs, painful happiness flowing through the black river of despair.  _ Say it again. Let it be real. _

He heard her. “I love you, Rey.” His thumbs were there to brush away the tears falling, but she wanted his arms around her again, and she broke free of his hands long enough to burrow her face into his chest. The smallest semblance of peace took root within her as he settled his arms around her, and at long last, their bodies stopped convulsing.

“You had to wait until now to say it?” she muttered into his chest.

He exhaled quickly through his nose. “I’m sorry; I can’t seem to escape family tradition.”

She had no idea what that meant, but she shook her head ever so slightly against him. He must have been attempting another joke.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but I got the feeling it wasn’t a good time for confessing,” he ventured quietly, his arms stroking her back.

Rey couldn’t argue with him on that. She closed her eyes, willing that tiny measure of peace to sustain her, savoring the feel of him next to her. Not much longer before the unknown crowd of people outside would be banging against the ship, demanding their prisoner. She pushed the thought away, looking up into those eyes she could read every feeling in, the fascinating face that was a window into his soul.

“I love you, Ben Solo.”

His lips began to tremble again at her declaration; he knew her use of his name was deliberate. Ben Solo was who he was, who he chose to be, and he was the man she loved. He kissed her fiercely once more, gratitude and unrestrained love in the press of his lips against hers.

Their time was becoming short, and they both knew it. But they couldn’t seem to stop themselves from one more kiss, and another. One of them had to be the last, and Rey began to cry again at the realization. She tilted her head to the side, their noses grazing against each other.

“Don’t leave me,” she murmured. It was a futile request, of course, but still she felt that she had to make it. He had to know that she would choose to be with him, never to be parted, if it was in her power. It was a plea that he not cut her off, no matter how painful the next chapter would be.

As ever, he understood her. “Never,” he replied, determination and strength in his promise.

One last messy, searing, passionate kiss, and then he stepped back. “Chewie,” he stated, the name a signal, and Rey heard the familiar hiss of the ramp extending. Ben held her hand as long as he could, but too soon he was beyond her reach, his feet carrying him into the opening, Chewie taking his place at his back.

Rey was unaware of any sound outside, the overwhelming pain consuming her once again as they shared one last brave, desperate, desolate look. He broke her gaze then, his determination now sending him into unknown places, and he marched down and out of sight. Her legs bent beneath her, and she sank into the curved wall, her cries shutting out the world around her.


	15. Another Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe takes center stage as a prisoner is brought to base.

There were times Poe was grateful he had appointed Finn as a general alongside him, impulsive a decision as it had been at the time. But what was the good of a fellow general to counsel with when he wasn’t there when you needed him? And if ever Poe needed Finn, it was as he watched the Millenium Falcon descend onto the jungle floor on which he stood.

When Lieutenant Connix had come running to inform him of Rey’s call and that it sounded both urgent and private, he had been curious and even a little scared. What had happened? He made sure to answer on a secure line, not knowing what to expect. And then she had dropped that bomb on him. Not only was she bringing in a prisoner, but it was a man they had all believed was dead! Poe had never felt at such a loss for words in his life, and never had he wished so much for Leia’s presence.

Poe immediately was ashamed at the thought. If there was one mercy from Leia’s passing, it was that she never had to see her son be a prisoner. No matter what she had given for the cause, seeing the boy that she raised be brought to justice would not have been easy.

But what was he supposed to do? The death of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was accepted fact, and there was no telling the blowback that would occur if it was discovered that he was alive. And considering his crimes, was there any point in making it public that he had returned? He would be brought in, tried, and executed -- simple as that. It might be good for the morale of the galaxy to have the highest of the First Order leadership publicly castigated; nothing united people like a common enemy. But what could be the damage? First Order loyalists might rise up with the assumption that their Supreme Leader was invincible, and Poe’s job would be made even harder than it was.

And what of his identity? To the galaxy at large, he was Kylo Ren. Very few even in Resistance circles knew that Kylo Ren was once Ben Solo. And according to Rey, he was Ben Solo again! Could Poe expose the man’s connection to their beloved general and princess? What would that do to Leia’s memory? What would that do to Rey, his friend, and the bright hope of the Resistance?

_ Finn, get back here now _ , Poe thought. There weren’t just the logistical questions to be explored, there was the simple fact that this man was back from the dead! It must have something to do with the Force, and Poe was completely out of his element when it came to that. Finn seemed to have a firmer grasp on the cosmic side of things and would be better equipped to handle the implications of Ben Solo’s return and how exactly to deal with Rey once she brought him in.

And what did Rey think, anyway? She had spoken fiercely in Ben Solo’s defense when she had given her report on the battle of Exegol. And then she had disappeared, ostensibly on some lightsaber quest. Was finding Kylo Ren some part of the mystery of her disappearance? She had captured him and was handing him over. Did that mean her words in his defense were just that -- words? Her actions at least showed that she was still loyal to the Resistance and the Republic. But did it hurt her at all to bring in the man she called Ben Solo?

There were too many unanswered questions, and until Poe had answers, he would keep Kylo Ren’s reappearance as quiet as possible. The timing of the Falcon’s arrival was fortuitous in that regard; it would be getting dark, so Kylo would be fairly hidden from sight as they transferred him from ship to cell. Not to mention that the base on Ajan Kloss was slowly dwindling in manpower as resources began to centralize in the Core worlds and government officials took advantage of the old capital buildings on Chandrila. There would be no crowd to greet Kylo Ren, just Poe, Connix, Commander D’Acy, and a couple of burly-looking, tight-lipped guards.

Once the Falcon landed, Poe took his place, trying to school his features into an impassive sternness. He didn’t want to give anything away in front of Kylo. The minutes ticked by slowly as they waited for the ramp to drop, and it was difficult to fight back a feeling of disquiet the longer they waited. What was the hold-up?

At long last, the hatch opened, and Poe steeled himself for the first glimpse of Kylo Ren, with Chewie at his back. Kylo was seemingly distracted, looking at something inside the ship, but it wasn’t long before he turned his head to face Poe head-on as Chewie walked him down the ramp. It was strange, though, that Kylo wasn’t restrained in any way, and Chewie didn’t have a weapon out to cover him. There was no indication that Kylo Ren was being escorted as a prisoner of war.

There must have been some official thing to say, but Poe didn’t know proper protocol when dealing with a dead man, and he probably would have forgotten it, anyway, in the face of this hated enemy. The man’s face was pale and blotchy, his hair disheveled, and his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. If he didn’t know any better, Poe would have said he’d been crying. Did monsters cry? Poe shook off the thought, resumed his stiff expression, and met Kylo’s steady stare directly. The former Supreme Leader looked absolutely miserable.

_ Good, _ Poe thought to himself viciously as he turned to a guard behind him to retrieve a set of binders.  _ Now it’s your turn to suffer. _

The stone face of Kylo Ren transformed slightly as the binders came into view. “You really think those are enough to hold me?” he asked, breaking the tense silence with a hint of a cocky smirk.

“Just wait. We’ve got something much better in store for you,” Poe replied contemptuously, hoping he sounded confident. In truth, he had yet to discover a way to subdue and restrain a Force user; there simply hadn’t been enough time to find out. Kylo’s eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, but said nothing, and Poe was left to wonder if his bluff was convincing.

Kylo surprised Poe then, by reaching out swiftly and taking the binders from his hands. In a moment, he had snapped the cuffs on himself, and Poe had no idea how to react.  _ At least he’s coming along quietly. I wonder what Rey did to him. _

He chanced a look up the ramp, hoping to see Rey, but nobody appeared. Chewie let forth a quiet howl, and the sneer disappeared from Kylo Ren’s face.

“What did he say?” Poe asked, tipping his head toward his crew, still not certain in his ability to understand Chewie.

“He said that she’s in there, but you should leave her alone for now,” Kylo answered before either of Poe’s advisors could.

“Yeah, I’ll bet she needs some time alone to scrub the stench of you off her ship.” Kylo scowled at his scathing comment, but said nothing.

With a flick of his head, Poe signalled to the group to follow him through the trees to the lock-up. The sun was setting, the only sound the crunch of their collective feet on the grass. Another gesture of his head, and a guard jumped to open the door, and Poe ushered Kylo in, grabbing his arm and jerking him along roughly.

The lights flared to life as they stepped into the holding area, and Poe pointed to a cell for Kylo to enter, which he did without comment, taking a seat on a rickety cot. Chewie followed closely, but was sure to stop at the invisible line of the energy barrier that buzzed into place at the push of a button by one of the guards.

Poe turned to his crew, trying not to breathe aloud the sigh of relief that wanted to escape now that Kylo was secure in his cell. “You can go about your duties, but again, not a word. Is that understood?”

D’Acy nodded curtly, and Connix followed her example, albeit slower. “Sir, with all due respect,” she ventured, “why are we keeping his presence here so secret?”

“I’m waiting to consult with Rey and Finn about our steps going forward, and until I do, I don’t want to cause an uproar.”

“He seems cooperative enough,” D’Acy observed. “I think that keeping quiet as possible is wise until a decision is made.” Her words were more for Connix’s benefit than Poe’s.

“Thank you, Commander,” Poe said, and with a wave of his hand, they went on their way.

Poe swiveled around again at the sound of low murmurs from the cell. Chewie was hard to silence, but somehow he was managing to carry on a muted conversation with the prisoner. Poe’s lip curled in disgust and confusion. Why did Chewie seem so calm in the face of his best friend’s killer? He cleared his throat, and they broke off their conversation to look at him.

“I want a few minutes alone with the prisoner,” Poe said tersely. “Chewie, why don’t you head out? Valinx, Thiresta, I’ll call you back in when I’m done.”

It was a boost to his confidence that he was obeyed without question. He would have questioned  _ his _ commander if their positions had been reversed. Chewie and the guards shuffled out, the door clanging closed behind them. All that was left was a deafening silence as Poe approached the cell.

They regarded each other silently, a mutual loathing simmering in the air. Poe didn’t want to be the one to speak first. The sight of a very human face before him made him distinctly uncomfortable; the last time they had been in such close proximity Kylo had been wearing that ridiculous mask. He halfway wished Kylo still wore it. It would have been easier.

“You don’t know what to do with me, do you?” Kylo said, that hint of a smirk back on his face.

“Oh, believe me, I know exactly what I want to do with you,” Poe replied fervently.

“That’s not the same thing,” Kylo rebutted, and Poe grimaced at his insight. “I have no doubt you want to kill me, but that’s not what you’ll actually do. Therefore, you don’t know what to do with me.”

“Reading my mind again, Kylo?” Poe spat out in response.

Kylo’s face turned to stone again. “I don’t do that anymore,” he replied coldly.

“How noble of you,” Poe said sarcastically.

“And that’s not my name.”

“You don’t deserve the name you were born into.”

This made Kylo pause. “You’re not wrong.” His voice was surprisingly sad.

Poe huffed quietly at the strange show of emotion. Kylo might not be reading his mind, but he had read the situation entirely too accurately. Poe would never admit that to him. “Look, just because you’re here with limited guards doesn’t mean I don’t know what to do with you. And don’t think that I’m going easy on you just because there aren’t many people around. I know that Rey feels she owes you some debt because you decided at the last minute you’d better end up on the winning side, and I don’t want to let her down or hurt her. And besides, I learned a long time ago that I need to take time to actually consider what’s best for everyone, not just rely on my own snap judgments. But don’t think for one second that what’s best for everyone is to make things easy on you. I will do what’s necessary to protect everyone from you. That’s what I’ve learned about being a leader. Can you say the same thing?”  _ Supreme Leader? _

Kylo seemed to hear the unspoken taunt of his former title, but he only lifted his chin in defiance. “It’s good to know some of the lessons my mother taught you are sticking.”

Poe’s control snapped. “Don’t you talk about her!” he said, barely keeping his accusing hand away from the energy wall between them. “You betrayed her and broke her heart. And for what? Was it worth it? You had the best mother in the galaxy, and you threw her away like she was nothing to you!”

Kylo had the nerve to snort. “‘Best mother’?”

“Don’t-”

“No, you listen,” Kylo interrupted Poe’s tirade before he even began, shooting to his feet, his eyes hard. “She was a good woman, one of the best, but even she would dispute the title of best mother. She knew her failures very well.”

“And you were one of them, is that it?” Poe asked derisively. “She failed you, and that was justification enough to turn to evil and the First Order.”

Kylo released a shuddering breath. “You don’t know me,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I don’t plan to. I know enough about what you’ve done.”

“So do I. That’s why I’m in here, and you’re out there,” Kylo replied, settling back down onto the cot. He took a moment to adjust his seat, then looked back up at Poe. “And whether you like it or not, you’re going to need me.”

“Excuse me?” Poe scoffed.

“The Final Order armada was taken down on Exegol, but what about the remaining First Order ships that weren’t there? What about the officers who have disappeared into thin air, as I’m sure they must have? What about operations that have been in place for years, the kind that don’t go away just because the Supreme Leader is presumed dead? Contingencies, supporting politicians, crime syndicates, weapons contractors -- to name a few. You can’t possibly have all the intel to take down the remnants of the First Order from the last few months alone. Your concentration is on direct assaults and defecting storm troopers, figuring out who to back in the government going forward, and acting as a temporary figurehead to the galaxy.”

Poe knew the distance they still had to go with ending the war outright, but hearing the description from Kylo’s lips wasn’t pleasant. “We’ve got plenty to go on. You might be surprised at how much we’ve accomplished in your absence.”

Kylo shrugged, a bizarre gesture coming from him. “Maybe. Probably not. You’ve likely scored some easy victories thanks to the power vacuum in the First Order leadership, and those who have surrendered to you have done so without much of a fight. Some of them might even be sincere in abandoning the Order, and you’ve been given some good information to move forward. But it’s going to take you a long time to root out the most dangerous factions of your enemy before this is all over, and you know it. That’s why you won’t kill me; I know too much that will help your cause and help you end it all the more quickly. You don’t know who might still be out there, and you don’t know who to trust of the captives you’ve got.”

“And I should trust  _ you _ ?” Poe exclaimed, trying to push away the voice in his mind that told him Kylo had a point.

Kylo’s face twisted in consideration at Poe’s exclamation. Finally, his voice even, no longer underlaid with malice, he said, “You should trust Rey.”

Poe’s brow furrowed at the simple, almost softened, response, and he tilted his head as he studied his enemy. Kylo still held his gaze steadily, but there was something there, something more in his eyes as Rey’s name hung over them. And Poe was starting to get a pretty good idea of what it was. “Is that why you’re here? Rey?” he asked, his lips forming their own sneer. “Have you got some twisted crush on her, and you’re just trying to impress her by claiming to turn over a new leaf?”

“It’s no  _ claim _ , Dameron, although I’m sure you’ll never believe that,” Kylo replied wearily. What right did he have to be weary? “And I’m not going to lie and pretend that Rey means nothing to me, nor that she’s a substantial motivation for me. But no, in the end, she’s not why I’m here.”

“Really? I thought she’s the one who brought you in.”

Kylo’s chin lifted again, challenge in his look. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“You can bet I’d rather do that than listen to your poison,” Poe said, shifting his body in preparation to leave.

“Believe what you want. But you’re not going to kill me. I can guarantee that.”

His arrogance was staggering considering his current position. Poe leaned in for one final cut before walking out the door. “Maybe not. But I can’t make promises for anyone else.”

* * *

After taking a few minutes to compose himself, Poe made his way back to the Falcon, night fully setting in around him. He passed Chewie as he neared the ship, and questioned with a raise of his eyebrows if Rey was available. Chewie growled, but pointed with his head toward the ramp, which Poe took as permission to enter.

He found Rey in the cockpit, stretched out between the pilot and co-pilot chairs, her elbow propped up on a leg, a hand rubbing at her mouth frenetically, her eyes distant and unfocused. He was almost afraid to disturb her reverie, if it could be called that, when a noisy, joyful beep clanged in his ears. He had overlooked BB-8 entirely, who had been keeping Rey company.

“BB-8! It’s good to see you, buddy. I’ve missed you.” He knelt to pat his old friend, a quick smile appearing as the droid beeped and whirred at him. “Yeah, I’ve been taking care of myself. Promise.” A single beep answered. “Thanks for looking after her; I couldn’t have sent anybody better.”

If BB-8 had been a biological being, he would have blushed; his responding titters and whoops sounded downright bashful as he rolled away. Poe looked back up at Rey, who had moved her feet to the floor. A smile played on her lips, but he couldn’t figure out if she was really happy to see him.

“Hey, Rey,” he said with a tentative grin.

Rey’s smile became more real as she stood and hugged him tightly. “Poe,” she muttered into his shoulder. When they pulled away, he was surprised to see her eyes were watery.

“It’s been awhile,” he observed awkwardly.

“Yeah.”

Her monosyllabic responses must be due to some residual strain from the last time they had seen each other; he should have expected it. He figured he’d better clear the air. “Listen, about what happened before you left -”

“Is he all right?” Rey interrupted, her eyes brimming with concern.

“What?” He cocked his head in confusion.

“Ben. Is he all right?”

Poe began to gesture in the vague direction of the lock-up. “Yeah, he’s . . . why does it matter?”

“I don’t want him hurt.”

Poe pursed his lips in irritation. Apparently Rey hadn’t entirely given up her better, and foolish, opinion of Kylo. “Who do you think we are, Rey? We don’t make a habit of torturing prisoners; we’re not  _ him.” _

“That’s not him any more, either,” she insisted softly.

An impossible suspicion occurred to Poe as he looked at her, but he tried to ignore it. “Wait. Why are you so concerned about Kylo Ren?”

She kept her voice low. “That’s not his name.”

“Yeah, he was quick to say the same thing,” Poe replied slowly. He reached out to touch her shoulder. “Rey, what is going on?”

Her eyes were wide and full of conflict, and Poe felt his fear expand. “I don’t know what to tell you, Poe. There’s just too much that’s happened,” she said, sounding fearful herself.

Abruptly Poe folded his arms, his face hardening. Whatever Rey had to say, she knew he wouldn’t like it, which was a sure sign that he would hate it. “Well, start at the beginning; I’m listening.”

“I don’t think you are!” she exclaimed, her face contorting in response to his flinty gaze. “You look ready to condemn me for whatever I say next.”

“That’s because I’m getting the impression that you’re about to defend him.” She didn’t say anything, which was just the confirmation he had feared. “Rey?” he probed, on the point of exasperation.

She shook her head. “He’s changed. He’s not the man you think he is.”

Stifling a groan, Poe turned away from her, rubbing a hand across his forehead in confusion and frustration. “I can’t believe this. You can’t be serious.” He whirled to face her again. She had to listen to reason. “Rey, listen to yourself. I know you think that his fighting alongside you at Exegol was a big deal, but come on!”

_ “You _ come on!” she retorted.

“What?” Had she lost her mind? What had he done that was so mystifying in comparison to her behavior?

“You’re not giving him a chance!”

“Why should I? Rey, stars above, here I was thinking that this was the big mystery of what you left to do! Some Force thing that took you away because somehow you knew he was coming back!”

“I did know,” she admitted.

“Right! So you left to find him and bring him in to face justice!” Again she was quiet, but he pushed ahead, begging for assurance. “Isn’t that what you did?”

“No.”

He swallowed. There had to be some explanation, anything that would erase the suspicion that was taking a firmer hold on him. “What?”

“No, I didn’t bring him in to face justice,” Rey stated, her eyes brimming with moisture again. “If it had been up to me, he wouldn’t be here at all!”

Poe took a deep and steadying breath. “Rey, please. Please tell me you’re going to say that if it had been up to you, he’d be dead.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m telling you that it wasn’t my decision to bring him in as a prisoner. It was his! He wanted to turn himself in, to answer for his crimes. But if it had been up to me, I would have taken him away and hidden him forever.”

Poe couldn’t listen to this. What had happened to his friend? Then she just had to continue.

“And I would have stayed with him.”

He stared her down, not wanting the answer, but having to ask the question, anyway. “Why?”

“I love him.”

It was as though he’d been gored by a mud horn, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to scream and shake some sense into her, but he couldn’t muster up the breath that had been knocked out of him. “That can’t possibly be true. It can’t.”

“Why not?”

Was she serious? His eyes bulged and he leaned in, his voice rising. “Because he’s the enemy, Rey! The Supreme Leader, the Jedi Killer, all of it! You really can stand there and ask me why it’s impossible to believe that you could love that monster?”

Some of the hardness in her expression disappeared, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. “You’re right.” Poe wanted to be relieved that she stepped back, but it was a fleeting moment before she went on. “It does seem impossible, but you don’t know everything that we’ve been through, everything that has connected us, and -”

“Oh, don’t go on, I don’t want to hear this.” He turned away from her again, his hands rifling through his hair as he paced. “This is not just impossible, Rey, it’s crazy! This isn’t you; it can’t be. This is all Kylo Ren, he’s in your head somehow, and we’ve got to get him out.”

“You think he’s controlling me?” she asked incredulously.

“What else could it be?”

“If he were controlling me, Poe, why in the world would he have me bring him here?”

Since when could he do nothing with his hands except shake them in the air? “I don’t know, some kind of manipulation. He probably figured out he couldn’t run forever, and is just using you so he’ll escape a harsher punishment. I don’t know. But this can’t be you, Rey!”

“It can! It is!” she declared furiously. “You told me once that I’m your strongest fighter; you think I’d really be so weak as to let someone control my mind?” Poe hesitated to answer, and she pressed on. “Well?”

Poe took on a new direction of attack. “So, then while we’ve been out risking our lives, you’ve been what -- ignoring us and frolicking through the galaxy with him?”

She sighed. “No. He . . . he wasn’t back right away. It’s only been a week.”

He could barely contain himself from completely exploding at her. “A week? And what have you been doing in that week?” She averted her eyes, having the sense to look a little ashamed. Livid, he nodded along. “Yeah, that’s just great, Rey. Let the rest of your friends and family rot while you pretend that all is right with being with the greatest enemy we’ve ever faced. Never mind that we’ve needed you, never mind that the galaxy needs its last Jedi. Oh, no. You’ve got to get in bed with the devil.”

Rey’s head whipped up, anger spreading across her face. “That’s not fair. You don’t know him.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of that going around. I don’t even think I know  _ you _ any more.”

A tear escaped one of her eyes, but Poe couldn’t feel badly for her at this moment. She began to speak again, her voice placating. “I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want -”

“To bring him in, apparently? To do what’s right?” he accused angrily.

“I didn’t want to have to choose between all of you and him,” she replied, now pleading. “He didn’t want that for me, either. He knows what you all mean to me. I know it’s not easy, but I hoped you’d listen at least a little, to try to understand that he’s not the same man. He could have run, and he could have stayed hidden and escaped justice for the rest of his life, but he didn’t choose that easy path. It’s important you know that this was  _ his _ choice, not mine. Kylo Ren wouldn’t have done this. You don’t have Kylo Ren in there; you’ve got Ben Solo.”

He straightened his back, righteous anger flooding through him. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re the same guy. You talk about his choices, Rey; he  _ chose _ to be Kylo Ren.”

“I know. He’s said the same thing.”

“So then what do you expect me to do? To think? I’ve got a job to do, and unlike you, I recognize that it’s bigger than just myself,” he said, thrusting out his arm to indicate the base outside.

“What does that mean?” Her eyes narrowed in angry confusion.

“It means that if you’re serious, that you really do . . .  _ love _ that thing, you’ve been incredibly selfish.”

“What?”

“Yeah, to abandon us all while we’ve got so much to do, to not even tell us what you’re doing, to bring him back here and admit that you didn’t even want to, to somehow think that your feelings are more important than the galaxy? You don’t think the rest of us would love to disappear and have a life outside of this? But we haven’t left, not like you. And we haven’t forgotten who we are and fallen in love with the enemy.”

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but Poe was done.

“Don’t!” He held up a hand to stop her, shaking his head in disappointment. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Without another word, he stalked out of the ship, trying not to care about the state he left his friend in. Her betrayal was too deep.

* * *

The difference in time between planets ensured one thing. Rey couldn’t sleep. She felt weary and exhausted in mind and heart, but her body was wide awake. Poe’s words kept echoing in her ears.  _ Selfish. Crazy. Impossible. Monster. Selfish. _ She sat in her bunk quietly, absolutely certain she had lost one of her best friends, and grieving the loss. What would Finn think once he returned? Would he be as virulent in his anger? Maybe Rose would be more understanding, but there wouldn’t be much of a way to tell with her taking charge of dismantling First Order ships off in some system that Rey couldn’t remember the name of.

Again that word echoed through her.  _ Selfish. _ She felt nauseated.

“Rey?”

She took in her first full breath in hours at the gentle sound of his voice. It was both relieving and burdensome. He was the source of her joy. He was the source of her pain. She lifted her head to see him standing above her, his body bent in concern.

“Are you all right?” she asked immediately, wanting to make certain he wasn’t mistreated. She shook herself ashamedly; she needed to trust in Poe’s word. And Ben looked just as he had before he left the Falcon.

“I’m fine. Are you?” he replied, taking a seat beside her legs. She vaguely wondered what he thought he was sitting on. Did he see her bed? Or did he only see whatever facsimile of it that existed in his cell?

“What do you think?” she answered ruefully.

His head bobbed once in sad understanding. “I’m guessing things didn’t go well with Dameron.”

“It was . . . awful,” she stated bluntly.

“I’m sorry. Our conversation, if it can be called that, probably didn’t help.”

She lifted her eyebrows at the contrite bow of his head. “What happened?”

“Let’s just say that my words and tone of voice didn’t exactly communicate the same thing.”

“Meaning?” She led him to elaborate.

“I told him I’d be cooperative, but I didn’t resist goading him a bit,” he admitted, ducking his head even further.

“Ben,” she exclaimed in soft reproach. They had one shot to make this right, and letting personal feelings get in the way certainly wasn’t going to help. But could those personal feelings be avoided? It was an impossible situation.

“Sorry,” he murmured meekly. “Couldn’t help it; I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. I had just left you.” Her heart twisted painfully; she had been given a few minutes on her own, at least. Ben had gone straight into the belly of the beast. “And he wasn’t being the most friendly person, either,” Ben continued. “I thought he was supposed to be charming.”

“He’s annoyingly so when he chooses to be.”

He looked at her intently. “So what happened when you talked to him?”

She sighed. “I told him I love you.”

He reared back lightly as though struck. “That couldn’t have gone over well.”

“No kidding,” she said wryly. “He thought you were controlling me.”

This did prompt a humorous smile from Ben. “As if I could!”

She allowed half a smile herself. “Well, he abandoned that thought fairly quickly. But . . .” she trailed off, that word pealing in her mind again, and her expression sobered. “Ben, am I selfish?”

He gave her a sharp look. “Did Dameron tell you that?”

“Yes, but . . . I’m afraid he’s right. There’s still so much to do, and I left it all behind. To do what?” She hunched her shoulders, lifting her hands in question.

“Build a lightsaber, pay homage to my mother and Luke, figure out your direction,” Ben answered firmly. “You never intended to leave forever.”

“Yes, but I was also waiting for you. And once you were back, what did I do? I made us wait. You thought it was important to turn yourself in quickly, but I stopped you from doing that. I stayed away, pretending that my wishes and desires were more important than the good of the galaxy. If that’s not selfish . . .” she trailed off again, morose in her wallowing.

Ben was silent, allowing her briefly to indulge in her low mood. But when he held out his arm to her, he did it with a look that would not brook denial. She quickly adjusted her body, sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her and snuggling into his side. He dropped his arm around her shoulder, letting his fingers drift along her skin.

“Look,” he began, his voice resigned, “you may have acted a little more in your self-interest. I’m having a hard time complaining about it, because no matter what I said about turning myself in right away, I wanted that time with you once you offered it. Everybody makes mistakes.”

“So I was being selfish,” she said mournfully, indulging in a pout.

“Yes,” he replied frankly, and she jerked her head up to scold him. “Hey, you told me that I needed to see all of you, right?” he reminded her with a small smile.

She pursed her lips. He was right, but now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear all her failings. “You had to throw that back in my face.” She lowered her eyes again, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Every once in a while, I think it’s important I win an argument. What better way to do that than use your own words against you?” he joked. But the joking was swiftly gone. “So, you acted selfishly; you made a mistake. A mistake I understand and am grateful for. But you move ahead, and try not to make the same mistake again.”

“And how do I fix things with Poe? He is one of my closest friends.”

His body became rigid. “I have hardly any experience with friends, Rey. I don’t have any advice for you there. I think you’ll have to figure that out.”

She nodded. His presence and words were comforting, but it was still a temporary peace. Poe’s rage didn’t bode well for Ben’s future, and while she wanted to delay the inevitable, the wait also was excruciating. She was torn between her desire to put off whatever trial might come and a wish to simply have it done with. Not knowing what would happen was terrifying.

“I’m scared, Ben,” she whispered.

His arm tightened around hers. “I am, too,” he admitted in that impossibly low voice that wrenched at her heart.

“You are?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She peered up at him again. “What of?”

He leaned his head down on hers. “You first. Then I’ll go.”

She lifted her eyebrows skeptically. “Promise? You won’t conveniently disappear when it’s your turn?”

“I’m here. I’ll stay with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough times ahead, obviously, so the next couple chapters might be the kind you simply have to endure, but seriously. I'm all about the HEA. But I think it's important to show that Rey's friends are not at all prepared for this development.


	16. A Sensitive Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Finn's turn to be reunited with Rey, and his turn to figure out what exactly is different about the man in the prison cell.

Poe’s voice was still ringing in his ears as he approached the lock-up. Not that Finn could blame him for everything he was feeling; he felt just as conflicted after hearing Poe’s account of his argument with Rey. This was not how Finn had expected things to go once he returned to the base. He had been expecting to reunite with Rey and they would all celebrate together. Instead, he came back to be blindsided by every revelation Poe vented at him.

“In love with him!” Poe had shouted. “In _love_!”

Finn didn’t know quite how to respond; the idea that Rey loved their former enemy was just as disgusting to him, but he didn’t think that feeding Poe’s anger by joining in with it would be productive. Besides, as surprising as the words were, Finn couldn’t help remembering a few private talks he had had with Rey when there were hints that she was more connected to the Supreme Leader than she explicitly declared.

There was nothing for it but to try and assess the situation. And unfortunately that meant confronting the prisoner himself. Finn hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rey, as Poe had practically commandeered him the instant his feet touched solid ground. Maybe that was for the best, though. He’d be better able to make his own decision without being influenced by her pleas that apparently she’d given Poe the day before. He tried his best to clear his mind, but considering the incredible amount of new information thrown at him by Poe in the last hour, it wasn’t an easy task.

Valinx and Thiresta jumped to attention at Finn’s entrance, and he beckoned Valinx closer, avoiding looking too closely at the man in the cell. A shiver went through him as he felt the dark eyes focused on him, but he would not give the man his direct attention until he was ready for it.

In a low voice, although he was sure their voices would still carry, he asked Valinx how the prisoner had behaved since his arrival.

A confusing look of wariness passed over Valinx as he glanced at the prisoner and his fellow guard. “Well enough. He hasn’t put up a struggle, or even talked. To _us_ , at least.”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Valinx shifted about uncomfortably. “Well, sir, we’d heard stories about Force users, trying to control people’s actions, and we were warned by General Dameron that Kylo Ren wouldn’t be above such tactics. But he hasn’t spoken a word to us beyond thanking us for his meals today.”

Finn frowned. Kylo Ren, capable of common politeness? But he was more interested in a clarification of what else Valinx had said. “But you said he hasn’t talked to _you_. What do you mean by that?”

Another wary glance from Valinx confused Finn further, especially as an eavesdropping Thiresta seemed to share his discomfort. Valinx’s voice dropped to a bare whisper as he leaned in closer. “He talks to himself, sir.”

He had no ready reaction. “You mean . . .”

“I mean, last night and this morning, he’s talked . . . to _himself_. And not in the usual way that someone might make remarks to themselves. No, he is having conversations. He says something, and looks like he’s actually listening to someone reply in his head. He even moves as though there’s someone in the cell with him.”

Finn couldn’t resist a strange look thrown Ren’s way now. The man hadn’t stopped staring at him, sitting on his cot, head resting on the wall behind him. His face was downright inscrutable.

“Do you know what he’s saying?”

“We haven’t listened too closely, to be honest. But it’s . . . creepy. Could he be talking to ghosts?”

Finn wouldn’t put it past the Dark side of the Force to have ghosts. But he also didn’t want to discount the idea that Ren was merely unsettling the guards for his own amusement. There was also the possibility that he was simply insane. His horrific actions certainly lent themselves to such a theory. Finn looked closely at him again, and this time Ren lifted his chin in response. He was waiting.

Finn sighed through his nose, then turned his attention back to Valinx and Thiresta. “Why don’t you two wait outside while I take a crack at him?”

The two men nodded with a muted “Yes, sir”, and soon Finn was left alone with his former commander. He took a few steps closer to the cell.

“I was wondering when it would be your turn,” Ren commented dryly, his voice a little hoarse from disuse.

Finn swallowed back a sudden feeling of revulsion. “Yeah, sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. I’m devastated,” was his sarcastic response.

“I’m sure you are, Finn,” Ren replied with a skeptical lift of his eyebrows.

“‘Finn’?” he repeated in surprise. Why would Ren call him that?

Ren mirrored his confusion. “That’s the name you go by now, isn’t it? That’s what Rey’s called you.” That he could speak her name so casually should have been sickening, but Finn’s senses were quickly becoming muddled as he regarded the man in front of him. “Don’t you want to be called by your name?”

“I thought you only called me ‘traitor’,” he bit out softly.

Ren’s features stiffened, and then softened in a sorrow that Finn wished was feigned. Unfortunately, he had a traitorous feeling Ren’s sorrow was sincere. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not long enough, in my opinion.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed briefly, and he shook his head ruefully. “You haven’t talked to Rey yet, have you?”

“No,” Finn replied shortly. Why was he admitting such a thing? He owed no explanations to this man, and yet he felt compelled to continue. “From what I hear, she’d only try to influence my opinion of you, so I thought I’d better come here first.”

Ren’s lip curled. “No,” he said with a slow shake of his head, rising to his feet. “You didn’t come here first. You discussed me with your charming compatriot first.”

“Well, he doesn’t need to influence me. He and I think of you pretty much the same way.”

“Yeah, yeah, you want to kill me, too,” Ren said with a roll of his eyes, crossing over to the other solid wall in his cell and leaning against it, his arms folded across his chest. “Get in line. I’m sure it stretches across entire systems.”

The irritation in his tone, not to mention his relaxed posture, did nothing to clear anything up in Finn’s mind. Such gestures were completely unlike the brute enforcer he had once served. Since when was Kylo Ren capable of looking so much like . . .? Finn took in a painful breath at who he was reminded of, and his response was immediately hostile. “You blame all those people for hating you? You blame me?”

“No,” Ren said simply, his face serious as he looked at him head-on. “I ordered you to do terrible things. _I_ did terrible things.”

“You took me from my home,” Finn accused angrily.

Ren hesitated before answering. “Strictly speaking, I didn’t do that. That was Hux.”

“You destroyed the Hosnian system,” Finn continued as though Ren hadn’t just given a completely reasonable counter-argument.

“Again, technically speaking, that would be Hux. And Snoke. I never approved of Starkiller base.”

“And what did you do to stop it?” Finn asked, wondering what other form of defense this confounding man would offer.

“Nothing.” Finn backed up in surprise. “That’s why I only say that technically, that was not my fault. But believe me, I still feel responsible.”

The day he believed Ren would be a hot day on Hoth. At least, that’s what Finn _thought_ he should think. “Good.”

His building uncertainty must have been reflected in his voice, because Ren cocked his head and, pushing himself off his wall, drew closer to Finn. Finn fought the urge to back up further under Ren’s scrutiny. He wasn’t pleased to see comprehension dawn on Ren’s face as he studied him. What was Ren discovering?

“You really _haven’t_ talked to Rey yet,” Ren murmured, his tone bordering on wonder.

Finn managed a curt reply. “I just told you I didn’t.”

“No, not about me,” Ren shook his head, still peering in curiosity at Finn. “About you. She would have mentioned it if you had. She doesn’t know.”

Finn flinched. So many months now had passed since he had begun to suspect it himself, trying to find the courage to tell Rey, and Ren had managed to figure it out within minutes. “Know what?” Finn tried to assume ignorance.

Ren tapped his temple with a lone finger, the smirk on his face too reminiscent of an aged, but still roguish, scoundrel. “About this. About what you think you are.”

Finn didn’t answer; he didn’t want to give Ren the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Ren’s smirk faded, and he said gently, “I’m glad for her sake. It’ll be good for her to have a friend who understands.”

“You don’t get to talk about my friendship with Rey,” Finn responded automatically, heatedly.

Ren held up his hands in mock surrender. “You and your fellow general sure like to give me orders about what I can’t talk about. What am I allowed to talk about?”

“Not Rey,” Finn declared. “Whatever she thinks she feels toward you, it’s wrong. And you’ve convinced her you’ve changed, but I know better.”

“Do you?” Ren’s eyes turned piercing once more, and another silence fell as they met each other’s stare. Finally, before Finn gave into the temptation to let his gaze falter, Ren stood up straighter, folding his arms again. “You might want to learn a little control, at the very least; you’re broadcasting incredibly clearly. I don’t have to read your mind to know that you’re already starting to question some things about me.”

“I’m not questioning anything,” Finn replied as confidently as he could.

Another skeptical lift to the man’s eyebrows. “You can lie to me, but I wouldn’t suggest lying to Rey. Women always figure out the truth.”

Finn felt like he’d been punched. The very same words, the very same expression. Physical differences aside, there was no doubt that Ren truly was Han Solo’s son. Finn had to retreat; he couldn’t risk giving away to Ren the rising doubts in his mind. He had to find Rey.

* * *

Finn found her inspecting the underside of the Falcon, scanner in hand. Before he could say a word, she turned to face him. His initial instinct was to rush to her and pull her into a Wookiee-like-hug, but his conversation with Ren made him cautious. He could tell that Rey was similarly undecided of how to greet him, her face a mix of happiness and uncertainty.

She opted to forego any formal greetings. “I heard you landed a couple hours ago. I kind of expected you sooner. You didn’t want to see me?”

“You didn’t come find me, so I could ask you the same thing,” he pointed out, his steps carrying him closer until he was directly in front of her.

Understanding filled her expression, and she sighed. “Poe told you.”

“Oh, yeah, he told me,” Finn replied fervently. “And then some.”

“I can imagine.”

Finn pressed his lips together, hesitant and nervous. There were so many questions begging to be answered, but where could he start? The first one tumbled out of him before he could control himself. “How could you think you’re in love with that guy?”

Rey breathed in, looking weary, but she didn’t look away. “I don’t think it, Finn. I know.” Her gentle reply quickly gave way to a stern look, and a pointed finger in his direction. “And before you start questioning if it’s some mind-control nonsense, I’m warning you that -”

“No, no, I’m not that dumb,” he interrupted quickly, not eager to incite her wrath. “But . . . You know how excited Poe sounded when he told me you were coming back? He wouldn’t tell me _why_ he sounded so excited with lots of people listening in, but I can guess why now. He was so sure that after the briefing and all you said about Ren -”

“Ben,” she corrected.

Oh, she was stubborn as ever. He held up a hand to calm her. “Let’s not fight over that right now, just let me say this. Everything you said in your report, and how you defended him, it really worried Poe that you weren’t on our side any more. So he was happy to think you were back on track, and that you taking . . . _him_ ,” a safer reference than any name he felt comfortable saying, “prisoner meant that everything would go back to the way it was. Not so complicated.”

“‘The way it was’ was also complicated, Finn; you just didn’t know it,” Rey said sadly, extending a hand to rest on his arm. “Everything with Ben started a long time ago, before he ever came to help me on Exegol.”

Finn backed out of reach. “Force, Rey, are you trying to make this even harder than it is?” he questioned, exasperated.

“I’m trying to be honest, Finn!” her voice rose quickly in response. “I hid a lot from you before, and I’m trying not to any more.”

Finn took a deep breath. He could sense that Rey wasn’t looking for a fight, and frankly, nor was he. But she had to understand his perspective. He only hoped he could make it clear without either of them erupting. “Okay, clearly we have a lot to catch up on, but give me a chance to catch my breath here. Do you know everything I’ve heard in the past hour? That you’re back, that Poe was happy to see you, that somehow Kylo Ren is alive, that he’s a prisoner here, that we have to figure out what to do with him, that Poe is really angry at you, that you’re in love with Kylo Ren, that he’s not the same guy, and I don’t know what he is, but he’s freaking out the guards by talking to himself, and now that all this stuff between you two started a long time ago? Seriously, Rey, I’m trying not to fight with you the way I know Poe did, but you’re making it really hard.”

“I know,” she said softly, painfully. “And I was naive to think that it would be smoother sailing than it is; Ben’s pessimism paid off more than I thought,” her lips twisted for a moment before she smoothed her features and closed the distance between them again. “I do appreciate that you’re trying; I can feel how hard that is for you.”

When she said that word - _feel -_ Finn couldn’t stop himself from huffing in response. Ren had sensed his untrained abilities; why couldn’t Rey, especially given how close they were? How had she missed all he had begun feeling in the worlds around them? He told himself he was being unfair; she’d been gone, and before then, there had been the war. But as Rey’s gaze turned from sympathetic to scrutinizing, he just wished she had figured it out already.

“What is it?” she asked in concern.

He breathed in deeply once again, figuring that if he didn’t say it now, Ren would take care of it for him. “Rey, do you remember how I told you I believed you about Ren saving your life?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever wonder why I believed you?”

“I guess I hoped it was because you’re my friend,” she replied, a hint of hurt crinkling the edges of her eyes.

“Well, there’s that, yes,” he said impatiently. “But there’s more to it than that. And honestly, that’s probably why I’m managing not to fly off the handle the way Poe did with this whole mess. Because I can tell the man in that cell . . .” he trailed off for a moment, his head turning slightly in Ren’s general direction. “I can tell he’s not the same guy, and I don’t _like_ that I can tell.” He turned back to face Rey fully, taking her hands in his. He spoke slowly and resolutely. “And the reason why I can tell he’s different is the same reason I believed you about him bringing you back from death.”

The same comprehension he had seen in Ren now began to be reflected in Rey, her lips parting slowly. “Finn,” she said, as though she didn’t dare believe what he was implying.

He went on. “Now I don’t think I could ever be as powerful as you, but -”

Finn was cut off by Rey launching herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck in a fierce hug. For a few moments, he allowed the embrace, glad for her understanding and the simple reassurance that their friendship was still buried underneath the conflict surrounding them. She pulled back, her hands still on his shoulders. “Are you sure?” she asked, a smile beginning to form.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod of his head. “I’ve suspected it for a while, just different feelings helping me, and protecting me. And I wanted to tell you earlier, but it was never the right time.” He paused, a little unsure if he should admit everything he felt, but Rey’s face was so eager, he couldn’t stop. “And I wasn’t sure I wanted it, either. Especially not when I felt you die. That’s not a feeling I want to experience again,” he said vehemently.

“I’m sorry,” Rey said, squeezing his shoulder in sympathy.

Finn shrugged. “You did what you had to do; you were being the Jedi we needed, to save us all. But when you showed up back on base, I knew. I knew that you had been gone, and somehow came back. So when you told us that Ren saved you, I couldn’t _not_ believe you.”

She pulled him close again for another hug, this one not quite so suffocating. “Thank you,” she murmured in his ear before pulling back, letting her hands fall to her side. “I . . . I don’t know if I should tell you how happy I am about this, or if I should apologize.”

He chuckled. _Join the club, Rey._ “Yeah, I don’t know what you should say, either. The way I feel about it changes all the time. Sometimes I think it’s the greatest thing to happen to me, that I could be like you. And then, knowing the burden it’s placed on you, I wish it were something I could just get rid of.” He looked at her intently again. “It really complicates things.”

“It does.”

“Especially when I look into Kylo Ren’s face,” he gestured behind him to the lock-up, “and I know the Force is telling me that it’s not Kylo Ren in there. It would be a lot easier if I could see him and know that he’s the same monster who nearly killed me. But I don’t know that any more.”

Rey opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, and shut it again. Finn had opened the door to discuss Ren once more, and he could tell she was keen to follow that direction. But she surprised him by what she said next. “What can I do? To help you?”

He pushed back his surprise that she wasn’t steering the conversation to the bantha in the room. “I’m still trying to decide. I have been for months. I like what I’m doing right now; it gives me purpose. It hasn’t been easy, but I have responsibilities that I really want. The faces on those kids, Rey, if you could have seen them,” he shook his head in wonder, and Rey smiled. “I mean, we know that what we’ve been fighting for is right, but to see it in their faces as we rescued them was the biggest assurance I’ve ever had that I’m doing what needs to be done. I’m not about to give that up to go to Jedi school. But,” he stopped himself, remembering Ren’s unsolicited counsel, “I was just told that I need to learn some control, and it’s not a bad idea to maybe learn something so that I know a little bit about what’s happening to me.”

“Who told you that you needed to learn control?” Rey asked in surprise. “You’ve been amazingly controlled as we’ve been talking.”

“Your boyfriend,” he replied ironically, noting the flush in Rey’s cheeks at the appellation. “And I don’t think he was talking about me controlling my temper.”

Rey nodded slowly in understanding. “I see.” She chewed the inside of her lip, and Finn could once more see how much she wanted to talk about Ren. “Well, I am happy you told me,” she said a touch too brightly, but he appreciated the effort she was making to stay on topic. “And I’m happy that I’m not alone. Is it all right for me to be selfishly glad that you’re sensitive to the Force?”

Finn smiled faintly. “Yes, I guess so.”

Rey placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, now speaking quickly, even nervously. “But I won’t push you. If you decide it is something you want to learn, I’ll be here. To help you. To learn together. There’s still so much I don’t know. I’m glad I can share it with you. If you want it, that is. I know that being able to feel the Force doesn’t automatically mean someone wants to be a Jedi.”

The rapidity of her words deepened his smile in genuine amusement. “Thanks.”

She didn’t have to pull him in for their next hug; he surrendered gladly to the unspoken question on her face. Stars, it was good to see his best friend again.

“I can tell you really want to talk about him,” he muttered, his arms still clasped around her.

She laughed breathily. “I’m trying not to be selfish. You told me something important, and that’s what I want to focus on right now. It’s something that’s making me happy in the middle of this mess, and yesterday I didn’t think that was possible.”

**Author's Note:**

> There was basically no Ben in this chapter. That will not be the case in the next one. :)
> 
> Also, I love Luke Skywalker way too much for him not to be in this at all, but it's very possible this is the only chapter he makes an appearance in.


End file.
